In a dim, yet radiant space, somewhere in between the land and the air, floating, flying, or maybe standing still, an invisible, or perhaps visible figure of a man or woman in a black or probably white coat lingered in the world of the living, maybe the underworld, or even nowhere in particular.
Wavering in front of the existence stood a flickering screen of an image, a painting, some sort of magic, possibly a token of fate, or perhaps, a fractured fragment of the past. On it, several faces were depicted, male, female, young, old, all humans, or maybe not.
"Is it him?"
The space was as silent as ever. Yet a voice, a hallucination, or maybe a sort of telepathy, transformed some words.
"Yes. The blue-haired one."
This time, however, it was an obvious female voice. Young, elegant, and composed.
"He has something you might be interested in."
