Ravine.
Shrouded in tattered, dark robes, the Death God staggered across a jumble of rocks.
Its form neared four meters in height, massive in stature, surrounded by countless tendrils, dangling densely packed wailing souls.
Regrettably, within the ravine, all manner of animals were incapable of perceiving it.
Even a roe deer that leapt past the Death God did not have the slightest awareness of its presence.
The Death God walked in silence, seemingly indifferent to these creatures.
Suddenly.
A dove flew down, alighting on the ground before the Death God, pecking at insects on the earth.
It blocked the Death God's path.
The Death God halted, silent for a moment, then gently sidestepped, moving past the bird sluggishly.
As it passed by—
a slender, elongated tendril emerged from within the Death God's robe, lightly touching the dove's back.
An opening instantly appeared on the dove's back.
Blood gushed forth.