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A pitch-black domain had descended over the entire capital, consuming everything. The soul of the Perfected One, vast beyond reckoning, had been absorbed. Now, the God of Terror, possessing that divine corpse, was a being of unimaginable might.
Unlike before, when its divine domain had expanded slowly as it harvested terror to strengthen itself, the God of Terror was now unleashing its power outward, dragging the souls of all living beings into its own domain by force.
Across the capital, bodies lay strewn across streets and courtyards—grand knights, mages, and common folk alike. Their minds and spirits, against the presence of the God of Terror, were no more significant than droplets of water in a storm.
There was silence. Utter, deathly silence. Within the capital, not a single sound remained. A sea of silence spread throughout the god's realm, a dead ocean that drowned all equally and without mercy.
From the motionless bodies sprawled across the ground, thin threads began to unravel, winding up toward the sky, toward the divine husk now occupied by the God of Terror. These strands were woven from the ever-growing power of terror, now transmuted into raw energy.
"How long must this go on?! I don't want this—I don't want this! Let me die, please, just let me die!"
"No—no—someone, anyone—please! Kill me…"
"Why… why can't I pass out? It's hopeless… I'm going numb… Please, just let me go numb…"
Howls of despair echoed through that space, forming a black fog so dense it was tangible. That fog drifted through the divine domain of the God of Terror.
In that bottomless sea of deathly silence, time twisted and stretched. Every second in the material world seemed like an hour to those trapped within.
And within that void, there was nothing but stillness, eternal descent. Above, the faintest glimmer of a dim, grey sky. Below, nothing but a boundless black sea.
Perhaps the souls drifting in that abyss imagined great sea monsters lurking below, frightful beings of unknowable shape. And perhaps those imagined horrors brought a small, bitter comfort.
For the true terror of this ocean was not danger, not the unknown. It was that which could be seen at a glance: an endless solitude that never ended.
These souls, untethered...
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