Netherworld.
An unknowable land.
The gray sky is devoid of any starlight, with a faint mist shrouding the vision, that pale gray mist rendering the road completely invisible beyond ten meters. In the haziness, some ethereal figures seem to emerge in the mist, forming vague silhouettes—perhaps Knights in broken armor or sinister-faced monsters, perhaps emperors high upon their thrones or Fallen Angels with broken wings.
The space before him ripples like a wave.
Following that, the pitch-black, unfathomable void appears, the ripped space resembling a broken mirror, seemingly containing terrifying space-time storms that could easily grind everything into nothingness. Then a humanoid figure gradually appears within the mirror-like projection, as a somewhat lazy-looking young man steps out. He holds nothing in his hands, walking slowly along the gray stone-tiled path, ignoring the emerging ethereal imagery around him.
