When Isiah opened his eyes, only a few seconds had elapsed since he had thrown himself forward to shield the serpent from the pitch black rain.
Surprisingly, the dark downpour was far less destructive than he had anticipated. He realized he was still burdened by misleading human perceptions, deeply ingrained habits of thought that he desperately needed to cast aside.
Now, the oppressive darkness was merely another routine aspect of his chaotic existence. The blood, the sweltering heat, the gloomy atmosphere, and the relentless killing were simply elements he had to adapt to.
Rising slowly while keeping his chest positioned over the snake, Isiah tilted his head back, staring up into the infinite void above.
As a former human, his mind instinctively expected to see a natural sky, yet nothing met his gaze. His perception remained heavily conditioned by his former life, a mental framework that was proving exceedingly difficult to dismantle.
