Albeck, gaunt as a corpse, merely trembled. It had happened countless times over the past few days.
Each time hope stirred and he looked closely, all he found were the illusions of Subspace, everywhere and impossible to shut out.
This time was no different. He heard his dead wife whisper, and a pair of young hands that did not exist slipped between his fingers.
"Stay. Be with me forever..."
Albeck pressed on, shaking off those hands with his withered one, just as he had when he was young.
"How interesting... A few pieces of black bread have wandered into a kingdom of sweet cakes..."
Then he heard a husky, enticing whisper from the same voice that had given that little murmur of surprise.
Albeck did not react, but a short distance behind him, a warrior who had removed his helmet, dried blood crusted around his throat, began to tremble.
His dead wife, visible only to him, embraced him and whispered gently, "Hold me. Don't let go again..."
Tom's trembling hands rose. He did not believe it. The torment had simply left him desperate for... release.
"Not black bread? Could they be sweet Pastries coated in honey and candied fruit?" The seductive female voice, which could stir the desires buried in their hearts, sniffed with a hint of interest.
Tom's hands stopped just before he embraced his dead wife. He was not the only one. Many had heard this voice, so different from the others, passing judgment on them.
Another illusion, or...
"Cry! Scream! Then die!" A cavalryman who had lost control laughed maniacally and stabbed his short blade at the air before him. His figure slowly faded, becoming a speck of dark red stardust where he stood.
They had seen this countless times over the past few days. This time,