It was difficult to sustain a physical body when the whole world was trying to rip his soul away.
Exposing his soul to the erosion was too risky. Even if it could take away the of the burden on keeping himself together if he just fought in his soul form, Varian decided it was not worth the risk.
The ever present white mist—the condensed soul power—acted as a shield and blocked Varian's perceptions from sensing his surroundings.
With only a limited range of perception, Varian had to search everything by himself.
Limited by the situation, Varian did just that.
He searched, searched and searched.
A week passed or perhaps two.
There was nothing to be found.
Or maybe he there was something but this place was too weird for a physical being to navigate.
"Logos, any ideas?"
[The souls, perhaps?]
