Losa walked shoulder to shoulder with Losa1.
The path ahead was too dim to discern the direction.
The ground underfoot was wet and slippery, hard to traverse.
The river roared ceaselessly in their ears.
The scent of mud and rot assailed Losa and Losa1's nostrils incessantly.
A cold sneer played on the faces of both father and son.
The world beyond the door?
Both of them had come to understand it.
Or rather, those characters had been too mysterious here, leaving far too many flaws.
Just like at this very moment.
The gray-white fog seemed to roll in slowly, but in reality, it surged forward rapidly, like a breached flood, silent but oppressive.
As the distance closed, Losa1 could clearly see the semi-transparent figures within the gray-white mist.
Or rather, it was as if the fog was entirely composed of these semi-transparent apparitions.
"Why?"
"Why wasn't I given a proper burial?"
"Why must I suffer like this?"
...