"Forget it, I will understand what is happening when I see her," Nameless Death muttered, shaking his head.
The room of Obitus was in the deepest corner of the palace.
Inside, the windows were closed and the curtains were drawn, creating a pitch-black darkness in the room.
Obitus was laying on the bed with her hair spread beneath her.
Her gaze was hollow. She looked like a lifeless doll.
Nameless Death spent days beside her. She never moved except for occasional sobs. It was as if she had given up on living, and was now waiting for death.
Watching her like this, as if she had lost everything, was painful for him. He couldn't understand why he felt like this.
"This place is definitely connected to me. Everything feels familiar here, and these people more so."
Obitus gave him the biggest sense of familiarity.
He wanted to wipe out her tears and tell her everything would be alright, but he couldn't touch her, nor call her out.
"Why is she like this?"
