Within the vast expanse, endless darkness and silence were pervasive. The sky was soaked in dense ink, with the breath of death congealing into something tangible; the earth was rotting and withered, with countless undead wandering aimlessly, unable to find rest.
In this eerily dark and quiet world, you would occasionally hear an ethereal, illusive scream, or several greedy, gnawing chomps. But when you try to listen carefully, those sinister sounds would disappear, as if everything before was nothing but an illusion. That is, until a pair of withered, twig-like hands emerge from the thick, oppressive darkness around you and rest on your shoulders.
The Realm of Darkness, where sunlight and dawn perish, a nemesis of warmth and heat.
...
On the grey-black earth, an undead being, resembling a skeleton, ran. Differing from a true skeleton, in this undead being's bony chest cavity, there remained some stinking, nausea-inducing organs and rotten flesh.
