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From the moment he arrived in that desolate place, he felt the dissonance between the time he perceived and the actual flow of time. In that void, moments stretched into eternity, and eternities shrank to moments.
It was a world empty yet chaotic in its laws. It was a world whose mere existence was sufficient to drive one completely crazy. And in such a world, the Great Vermouth sat alone.
There was no conversation between them.
But they saw each other.
At first, he attempted to speak numerous times. He poured every conceivable emotion into his cries and pleas. It was necessary because, up until that point, the specter believed himself to be 'Hamel.'
He asked why Vermouth was there. What was he doing in such a place? Asking such questions was also very characteristic of Hamel. According to the manipulated memories, Vermouth had betrayed Hamel. He had been the first among their comrades to stab Hamel in the back.
Yet, the specter couldn't unleash his hatred and resentment for the betrayal. The reality of Vermouth sitting alone in an incomprehensible void took precedence before his own sense of betrayal.
Vermouth appeared worn and decayed in the void. His characteristic gray hair resembled clumps of burnt ash, and his once brilliant, gem-like golden eyes were now dull and faded.
The specter asked why Vermouth was there, but he received no answers. As such, he had to ask other questions.
He questioned...
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