Raiden stood motionless in the middle of a misty field. The dark, smoky miasma rose to his waist as spectral corpses emerged from the haze, their ghostly hands reaching to touch his body and drag him down. But he paid no mind.
His head tilted upward as he gazed westward. A full moon hung in the sky, its light mostly blocked by a towering mountain. Upon the mountain's peak stood a smoky figure, becoming more spectral as the moonlight intensified, its gaze fixed on Raiden below.
He stood motionless for a while, head still tilted upward. But before long, he snapped from his daze and noticed the corpse beside him, its spectral hands clawing at his body, trying to drag him down. Fear crept in, and he leaped from his position as his heart began to pound.
He stood there with confusion washing over him, goosebumps surging through his body. He whipped around to face the mountain again—the figure was gone.
