In the Cerulean Abyss.
The light was dim, even on the third level, which was still relatively close to the surface. Light filtered down from above, illuminating crystalline structures that propagated the distant sunlight into beautiful swaths of color across the dim rocks. Twisted paths wound between sheer cliffsides and bottomless crevaces, and the sounds of monstrous growls and scrittering claws filled the air. The smell of blood drifted, and a palpable feeling of dread clung to everything.
Through this maelstrom which at every moment whispered of sudden death, a man strolled casually down the twisting paths. He was a bald-headed fat man, slightly short, with a face that seemed jolly and peaceful. He wore a simple, threadbare robe, and he wore no sandals on his feet. His eyes were constantly squinting, making it difficult to perceive their color.
Barefoot, he strode through the abyss, casually looking around with enjoyment, as though he were simply sight-seeing. An ordinary observer would be shocked; was the Cerulean Abyss a place that could be treated so casually? Of course not! This weak-looking fat man was simply seeking death! Continue reading