There was no pain, or any kind of final burst of sensation. Nor any dramatic revelation or moment of clarity.
It was just an abrupt, complete and empty end.
One moment Ishiki was reaching for his wife's face, desperate to touch her one last time.
The next moment, everything ended.
It didn't fade to black or white, that wasn't how death felt. When death came, everything simply stopped. Like a candle extinguished by an indifferent wind.
Then there was white.
Pure, absolute white. Not bright enough to hurt, not dim enough to be comforting. Just an endless expanse of colorless existence that stretched in every direction.
Ishiki sat at the edge of a cobblestone path.
His hand was still outstretched and frozen in the motion of reaching for something that no longer existed. He stared at his palm and felt... nothing.
His mind was indifferent to the change.
