There was, at last, nothing.
Not in an arbitrary sense of meaning that people commonly use throughout their mundane lives; while in fact, they refer to just the absence of some things in particular.
No. This wasn't just that. What Ozul was going through was finally a void in its truest sense.
Void of all that was material and all that was abstract.
There were no colors, thoughts, emotions, or even darkness.
If Ozul was conscious at that moment, he would have affirmed it to be the best feeling he had ever gone through. But there were no feelings here and the concept of consciousness itself would have ruined this moment; it would have tainted the essence of it all.
Wistful as it was, this holy state of being didn't last for long.
There were, at once, cracks that ripped apart the void and brought forth all that was vile.
