Roland gazed at the slender figure materializing from the endless Darkness before him. His eyes were calm, showing little ripple of emotion.
This was different from the Shire he had encountered in that "future" timeline.
The Lady of the Night from that time, though still possessing divine might, had an air of something ineffably "thin" and "detached" about her, a consequence of waning faith and the changing times.
But the one before him now…
Pure Darkness flowed and breathed silently around her like a living entity. Every wisp of Shadow seemed to carry the weight of ancient cold and oblivion.
That "concentration" of existence, that unquestionable authority and pressure born from the fundamental Laws of the universe, was so real it threatened to solidify into tangible Chains and bind the very souls of all who beheld it.
Her mere "existence" here seemed to overwhelm this space of consciousness, causing it to let out a silent wail.
