It was a fleeting glimpse, a look so quick a human could hardly notice it; Yu Sheng’s mind passed through the chaotic black mist and in less than a ten-thousandth of a second he witnessed scenes that came from some far-off boundary — and even though it was that brief, that image seared itself into his cognition like a brand, the enormous information it carried howling through his mind like a storm.
Yu Sheng even suspected he had died again in that instant, only to be resurrected for some strange reason without even realizing it.
Then he shot past some kind of “threshold layer,” continuing to fall deeper and deeper into that bone-chilling black fog.
“Bang.” A phantom impact echoed through his soul; he stopped abruptly and realized he seemed to have hit something.
The surrounding mist receded a little, and a chaotic dim light shone from the distance, outlining huge silhouettes.
Yu Sheng saw massive pillars arranged in neat rows within the fog.
Each pillar rose like a towering spire.
Under his feet lay weathered flagstones, each crack seeming soaked with centuries.
At the end of the pillars stood a huge temple, looming in the darkness like a tomb.
Is this the end of the black fog? Is the deepest layer of that mirror like this?