At the very bottom of the inside of Celestial Tree, where no light had ever reached, the abyss churned.
Amon was there. Or something that resembled Amon.
His body floated at the center of the black lake, suspended as if gravity no longer mattered. He was unconscious. He could not understand what was going on.
His eyes were wide open, completely pitch black, reflecting nothing. His mouth was open. He was not screaming, he was not in pain, but in hunger.
Darkness flowed toward him.
The lake itself trembled as thick black liquid rose in streams, spiraling into Amon's body. The smoky clouds above twisted violently, pulled downward as if caught by an unseen force.
Every trace of darkness, every shadow, every fragment of that ancient substance was being dragged toward him.
Amon was sucking everything in. Not consciously. Not intentionally. It was happening naturally. As if this was what he was meant to do.
