In the face of the endless starlight and colors, Bertrum felt his consciousness gradually disintegrating, while some "things" that should not belong to him were rapidly pouring into his soul, eroding and replacing it swiftly—the moment he still remembered his own name, but the next moment, all perceptions of himself were submerged in a vast ocean of information, and another moment later, he realized that the body he had only just occupied had begun to slip out of his control.
He sprouted new organs, and where his body had turned wooden years ago, traces of flesh and blood reappeared. He opened eye after eye, each seemingly backed by an independent consciousness—countless voices clamored in his mind, ultimately turning into a grand yet chaotic roar, and in this roar, he saw a figure as huge as a lighthouse descending.
