A dark sky envelops a cold, empty world echoing with mournful whalesong. The great beasts swim their solemn journey across the endless expanse amid islands of jagged stone. Like candlelight, the stone islands flicker in and out of perception, shimmering in the dark aura. The smell of flowers, of rot, of the salt of a distant sea wafts through the cold air of the Void, still and stirring, finite and infinite.

Through the gray-brown smog, under the glow of a distant sun smothered by the Void's aura, there are two men. Like the whales and the black stone on which they stand, they flicker in and out of perception, two reflections plunged deep in the belly of the Void. The cold air breathes around them, pushing them toward one another. They draw closer and closer still, but the closer they become, the farther apart they are.

Voiceless calls reverberate across the abyss, unheard. Somewhere, a seam unravels. With a groan, the Void plunges the reflections into oblivion.