Bab 814: Death of Hope

It started on top of an extremely tall glass tower. The tower was surrounded by eight layers of golden light that swiveled and rotated around it at different angles, creating an almost impenetrable shield.

It was located on an island no bigger than 600 kilometers in diameter that was floating through amber-colored mostly empty space.

A baldheaded man in his late fifties or sixties with a white beard wearing a dark brown robe that looked more like a potato sack was standing next to a table writing in a hardcover book while mumbling to himself.

"After ceaseless testing, I must, unfortunately, conclude that the source of the "infection" is still unknown. It is a soulless abomination, an obscene atrocity on the gift of life itself. Everything it touches is tainted without any hope of recovery."