Aegon stood on a snowfield.
All around him was pitch-black. There was no moon, no starlight, only endlessly falling snow.
A gash had opened in the sky, spilling white fragments from its depths.
Beyond a few paces, everything was swallowed by darkness and white.
He looked down.
Snowflakes had settled on his black Valyrian steel armor, forming a thin layer that did not melt.
He raised a hand and caught a flake. The ice crystal lay in his palm, its edges sharply defined, refusing to melt.
He felt no cold.
He could not remember how he had come here.
He looked around, but saw nothing except snow and darkness.
There were no roads, no footprints, no sound of wind.
Between heaven and earth, only he and this white wasteland remained.
He stepped forward.
He did not know what lay ahead or why he was heading that way. He simply felt that he should.
The snow compacted beneath his feet, each crunch strikingly clear in the deathly silence.
Time grew indistinct. He might have been walking for ages, or for only an instant.
Then he stopped.
A light appeared in the darkness ahead.
A faint blue glimmer hung in midair, like an eye.
He stared at it, instinctively halting.
Then a second light appeared, followed by a third, a fourth... hundreds upon thousands of blue lights emerged from the darkness, densely packed, surrounding him.
The night was deep, the snow fell thickly, and anything more than a few paces away was lost to sight.
All he could see were those blue eyes lurking in the dark.
Those eyes had no pupils, no warmth, only an icy light as they stared at him without moving.
Aegon reached for his waist, seeking his sword hilt, but found nothing.
His fingers tightened around empty