The Death Realm was not the same as Hela's Underworld. This was not a barren land, but something more akin to Dreamscape, a fantastical dream woven from fragments of countless cosmic laws. One moment, one might be in a strange black forest; the next, in a dark city resembling Gotham. To creatures of order, everything here was chaos.
Human souls were not entirely unconscious as they entered the Death Realm. They fell into a bizarre and dazzling dream, usually made up of memories from their lives. Within those dream fragments, they relived the memories that had left the deepest impressions on them—the so-called Revolving Lantern.
But this process was actually meant to verify every last piece of data in the soul, making it easier for the database to delete them.
For certain reasons, Schiller, who had died many times, was experiencing this loading process for the first time. He first fell through darkness, then sensed a hazy glow. Following that light, he continued downward, wrapped in a warmth like amniotic fluid.
The sensation of weightlessness grew weaker and weaker. Schiller felt himself hit bottom.
He gathered his focus and forced his eyes open. In a daze, Schiller found himself in a familiar church.
It looked like footage shot through a lens with an unusual halo filter. Everything was bathed in a hazy, dreamlike glow. Nothing had any detail, yet everything stirred memories.
Schiller instinctively turned around and saw the towering cross behind him, along with the Jesus statue standing beneath it, arms spread and eyes lowered.
Suddenly, hurried footsteps rang out at the church entrance. A figure rushed toward him, and the filter shattered in an instant. By the time Schiller came to his senses, he saw Natasha waving a hand in front of his face. "Schiller, are you all