A black & resounding void, hollow of all force. A push through an invisible trash-bag plastic wall of immense fortitude. Yielding at points, only to fit the lifeless form. Wind breaks against the barrier of a soundless black dawn. The cold breath of dying fills his lungs. Chill of paralysis runs along his spine. Simultaneous separation and integration from the M-Data cluster he knew. Skinless black.
No-life. Hate Syrup pours into his nervous system, a mold for the black inky substance of negative veils. Rage swells in all his veins. All sight is outlined in white around solid black objects coming into appearance in this no space. A man sitting at a desk, four-sided pyramid hovering to his left. All the dim color of Onyx. He and his desk sit atop a platform in empty space. Checkered floor only distinguishable by different depths in a gray scale. Sinister and hollow place. Sound seems to echo inertly here. An odd sensation to describe. There is only silence though, amplified to a deafening volume. It screams incessantly: