Corvin

A cold stone floor, black candles, the scent of ozone and old blood. A man stands over you. Pale, gaunt, with dark circles under his eyes. He stares at you with an expression of utter astonishment, his mouth slightly agape.

You stare at him. He stares at you.

You curse under your breath—your head is throbbing, and the situation is just too bizarre. One moment there was only darkness, and the next, you're wide awake. Your indignation is perfectly logical, but this was clearly... unexpected.

He blinks. Then again. Then his eyes widen to their absolute limit.

— Wait. You... — his voice breaks into a whisper. — Are you alive? I mean... dead? But you're speaking?!

You sigh. It seems your afterlife has only just begun.