In a daze, Angel felt his thoughts sink into a silent, tranquil deep sea.
Pitch-black and still, boundless and endless.
He did not know how long he had sunk before faint undercurrents suddenly appeared around him.
These undercurrents shoved his thoughts back and forth.
Angel could have withdrawn his thoughts at any time, but he did not. He wanted to see where this current would carry him...
Time flowed differently within his thoughts than it did outside—far more slowly. He had no idea how long had passed. He only felt the undercurrents pushing him onward gradually weaken, until they finally vanished.
The thought-form born of his consciousness slowly raised its head.
Angel found himself surrounded by thin mist. It was not dense, but it lay in every direction.
Instinctively, he wanted to walk forward and enter the mist.
But at that moment, Angel vaguely sensed something. This seemed to be an exceedingly fragile space. His presence was already its limit; once the undercurrents were no longer lending their momentum, if he moved through his own conscious will, this space would immediately shatter.
Once it shattered, his thoughts would be instantly pulled away and returned to reality.
Angel had no intention of leaving yet. He still wanted to uncover this place's secrets, so after hesitating for a moment, he ultimately stopped moving.
He merely kept looking around, trying to see through the thin mist and glimpse what lay beyond it.
After surveying his surroundings for a long while, Angel finally saw a different scene beyond one patch of mist.
With the mist obscuring it, Angel could not see clearly, but he could vaguely make out figures crouching on shattered ice, with a surging, heaving ocean below.
The ice seemed to be cracking. Each time it split apart, figures fell into the