Watching the unfolding scene from afar, the elves were convinced of the outcome, amidst their screams, surprises, and astonishments. Roland was also almost certain, about to accept it. Faced with the overwhelming power of death, his immobilized body was left with only thought.
He was going to die.
Just like that.
Nothing he could do.
He was going to be devoured.
His physical perception of time became distorted, the views in his sight slowed down to an abnormal pace, and the realization of impending death shattered and stretched every segment of his life experience into countless related but irrelevant scenes. People and objects he knew, experiences he had had, feelings he had left behind, all distorted and flowed into his senses in a tight yet vast ambiguity. At the very end, nothing was left but the shadow of Pitch-black, curling up a smile at him.
[You - are you only this capable?]
That might have been an illusionary voice.
