At 7:50 p.m. Bexland time, Altair used his need for rest as an excuse to go alone into the room originally prepared for Vivian. He used meditation to help himself fall asleep quickly.
He had barely lain down for long when his eyelashes began to flutter. Sleepiness washed over him like a tide, and he could hardly muster the strength to blink. His body's instincts took over, and Altair fell asleep.
Strangely, even after he had fallen asleep, his consciousness remained clear. Yet it seemed to be pulled by some unknown force, sinking endlessly and drifting toward an unfamiliar place.
Was this how the Twilight Hermit Society gathered people for meetings? It was rather similar to the Tarot Society: both pulled people's consciousness out and brought them together for a meeting.
But where was he going? A dream world created by a Spectator, or Adam's "divine kingdom"?
The thought had barely formed when the sensation of falling abruptly vanished. He found himself standing in an endless expanse of Gray Mist. The ground beneath his feet was made of a translucent, gelatinous substance. Ripples spread across it with every step, reflecting countless scenes: people running through the streets, people crying, people laughing...
As he watched those scenes, Altair's consciousness instinctively merged with them. He became lost in the images, unable to break away. At some point, a chill began to spread from his head through his body, gradually bringing his consciousness back to its senses.
Once he had fully recovered, he realized he had left the images behind and arrived in a vast, magnificent church.
Looking at the church, built from "special" materials, Altair felt no sense of eeriness. Instead, it seemed filled with holiness.
Every black pillar, every arch, every part of the vaulted ceiling was inlaid with the bones