Nothing else remained on the page. No additional commentary, no further explanation.
Isiah possessed an instinctive habit of tilting his head upward whenever his thoughts grew heavy. In the Old Globe, his eyes would automatically seek out the towering, luminescent mass of Emperium suspended in the heavens. Here, however, looking up revealed only an unbroken, suffocating abyss of total darkness.
It wasn't as though he had ever taken pleasure in the sight. Isiah detested having anything hover directly above him, yet gazing at Emperium had served as a constant physical reminder of his ultimate objectives.
Isiah re-read the mysterious English passage several more times before closing his eyes. The penmanship did not reflect the tremor of an enraged, suffering, or hesitant soul.
The individual who had inscribed those words had done so with eerie, absolute composure, even if the concepts detailed within were fundamentally dark.
