Reaching down, he wrapped his fingers around the brass handle. It was cold to the touch, as though sitting amidst a bank of snow.
He carefully twisted it, not so much as inhaling or exhaling as he began to open the door. It opened to a completely black void sitting beyond the threshold—
["The truth of it is, from the start, I've always been who I am."]
The grim voice of [Nameless] filled his ears as his entire vision became engulfed in that darkness.
He witnessed it all; the inception of the man erased from history, the upbringing he had, the choices he made. All of it, all at once, flooded into his mind–those memories.
However, what he found did not bring enlightenment.
'No, this can't be right–it can't,' he thought.
The foul memories played into his mind, showing him the finest details of [Nameless], yet none of it served to shine any light upon the stain on humanity.
