It was seamless, it was cold, it was unending, it was a shrewd feeling that couldn't even be sensed.
Because his senses were dead to begin with. But deep down in his subconscious, something could tell there was a feeling.
That part of the brain that stays passively active after the entire brain goes to sleep was watching. But with more intensive attention than what would qualify as subconscious.
The darkness was the space, the space was the darkness, there was nothing in the space that wasn't darkness.
And all that existed in this realm was just that—space and darkness.
But it wasn't just any other darkness. It was like clothes, it was as deep as blindness, the night or shadow couldn't compare to this kind of darkness.
It was the origin of nothingness, where creation had started.
Northern's subconscious watched a small orb of darkness separate itself from the space of darkness, whirling like a vortex and slowly growing bigger.
