The relentless chanting washing over his mind receded and the once ambiguous and dim space turned into pure white.
("Am I... dead?")
He couldn't find any lines, not even a dot; no matter which direction he turned—front, back, left, or right—he saw no end in sight, just an endless expanse of white where not even the horizon existed, and he couldn't distinguish which way he faced.
Under normal circumstances, staying here for even 5 minutes could cause mental abnormalities. Yet now he was able to face it calmly, which indeed made it easy to question whether he was still alive.
"If you were expecting a blissful afterlife, then that's really too bad,"
Roland turned toward the source of the voice.
That voice, tinged with sarcasm, was too familiar—it was impossible to mistake. As Roland turned his head, he expected to see the familiar figure, but the sight was so unbelievable, and it awakened a strange impulse within him.
