Mortarion's eyelids felt as heavy as lead. He exhausted the last vestige of strength in his body merely to force them open a crack.
The sickly green, unchanging light of the toxic mist swam hazily into view. His vision was blurred, as though he were looking through worn frosted glass. He saw a hunched, pitifully small silhouette sitting on a rock less than three meters away. Its outline wavered in the poisonous fog, as if that sickly green sea might swallow it at any moment.
Who am I? Where am I?
After an instant of bewilderment, memories came crashing through the defenses of his consciousness like a flood bursting its banks.
Overwhelming shame and fury beyond reason erupted in his chest like a volcano. Those violent emotions even drowned out his physical agony, becoming a surge of strength that sent him lurching upright in the mire!
Splash-!
Viscous, poisonous mud sprayed in every direction. Mortarion's enormous body, like a pale statue, rose upright once more amid the toxic fog, radiating a brooding menace that promised to destroy everything. His eyes had regained their clarity. Deep-set and filled with boundless fury and stubborn endurance, they stared straight at the tiny figure before him.
Only then did he see the man clearly.
He was a mortal. An old mortal man who looked as though he might crumble into dust at any moment.
He seemed to have kept watch here for a long time. The eyes looking through those cloudy lenses held no fear, no reverence, not even the slightest surprise. Mortarion had never seen such a gaze before. It was as calm as an ancient, bottomless well, reflecting a trace of... pity?
Pity?!
Mortarion's pupils contracted sharply. He lowered his head and examined his body.
The horrific wounds on his chest and