Looking at the undying and immortal Undead, Aventine was hit by a pang of terror wrought by existential dread.
The fear of his own Gift, which he would always push down with the thrills of treasure and danger, resurfaced when he encountered the question of lifespan.
What would he do if his own, puny human lifespan prevented him from achieving what he had to do?
What if he died of natural causes right then and there?
Even suicide could not save him from that fate worse than death.
'
Sighing at his own shackles, he focused on the present.
The members of Very Sighed were rushing through the remaining rooms, blasting apart every Undead they encountered and incinerating their bones.
The horde was breathing down their neck, forcing Li'lsuo to fall behind, busy collapsing the passageways behind them. If she hadn't done that, they would have been surrounded long before they reached Kirivan's chambers.
