It was a deathly sensation.
No, it was death.
His form had been brought to its end.
Damon had heard people wonder what death felt like. Everyone always had an answer, one theory or another.
Death was an unknown, much like asking what came before birth.
And strangely enough, Damon knew death.
He had experienced it.
Yet he still could not define it.
He could not remember what it was, only the sensation before everything came to an end.
He knew death and did not recognize it.
Perhaps it was more accurate to say that death knew him.
Then what was this sensation?
Damon was here.
He was alive.
Though he was not entirely sure that was true.
Nevertheless, he existed.
This space looked strange. It resembled a broken and ruined world. A distant sadness lingered here, one so profound he could not fathom it. It was as though this doomed place wished to be whole again, wished to return to its former glory.
Yet somehow it was glorious in its destruction.
