Under that gentle gaze, what appeared before Snape was a pair of long, slender hands.
Those hands were likewise formed from Silver Light. Now their palms had already opened, slowly reaching toward him, as if all he had to do was stretch out his own hand and he would be able to grasp those hands made of Silver Light.
The instant Snape reached out and was about to touch those hands, a strange feeling inexplicably welled up inside him.
That feeling appeared silently behind him, like a curse hurtling toward him, filled with coldness and weirdness.
He instinctively looked toward the direction the icy feeling came from. There was a Dark Abyss, and at the center of the Dark Abyss stood a figure, a figure wearing a mask.
That Figure wore an open black robe. The robe was like old clothing once worn by a Giant; not only was it long and oversized, it also looked extremely tattered, with the threads at the seams already coming loose.
Inside the front of the black robe was a strange shirt like maternity wear, washed until it had turned pale and faded all over. The yellow stains at the collar that would not wash out were particularly conspicuous.
Snape looked at That Figure's face. What entered his sight was half a mask, half a shattered Death Eater mask.
He slowly shifted his gaze to the part of That Figure's face not covered by the mask, and instinctively drew in a deep breath.
That was his face, or rather, his former face. It was much paler than it was now, the cheeks gaunt, the cheekbones slightly protruding.
What startled him most was That Figure's pitch-black eyes.
Those eyes were like black holes, greedily devouring everything around them, including him as he stared into them.