There were too many things Sylas didn't recognize. He could see Time, he could see Space, but what were the other colors? What of the things he couldn't fathom at all?
That was what was really ripping him apart.
The colors he could see weren't the problem. It was the ones that weren't there, the ones that were present and yet not observable, that were shredding his Will apart.
As though infuriated that an ant like him was even trying to see through them, they pressured his Will and pulled on it harder, and harder, and harder than even that.
It was like an endless, unfathomable abyss, one so deep he couldn't see to the end of it.
But Sylas could faintly tell that unless he could grasp these things, maybe he would never truly perfect Archon Casting.
