Shadow remained motionless, studying the Demon of Desire with a sense of trepidation.
Most of his senses were useless, as if Hope wasn't there at all. That was because she was suppressing her presence, sparing the world the unfathomable burden of her resplendent divinity — she was known to be a patron of humans, after all. If Hope did not hide her true splendor, merely being near her would have crushed mundane souls.
So, Shadow could only see her.
Even then, her figure was nebulous. All he saw was an elegant white dress outlining the shape of a graceful figure, and yet somehow, it felt as if there was nothing beneath the soft fabric at all.
It felt as if the white fabric hid a cosmic infinity, a vast abyss woven out of purest darkness, purest light, and then shaped carelessly to resemble a human.
He shivered, overwhelmed by her breathtaking beauty.
He shuddered, overcome by an alien sense of revulsion.
