Deep within the core of Midas's body, darkness loomed. There existed a cocoon of pitch-black shadow. One that seemed to stretch on forever.
In this seemingly infinite black abyss, a star as bright as the sun shone brightly.
It was white in color, a luster of magic in the air. It was the soul of Midas.
At that moment, a crack of white light suddenly splintered through the dome of darkness above. It was as though a brick had hit glass.
A green, poisonous-looking gas flew forward. It was a curse. Urus's curse, that had already made its way to Midas's soul domain.
The gas of death swarmed around Midas's soul, causing the soul to shine brightly with alarm.
During this time, Midas was at a complete loss in the outside world. It wasn't as though he was unconscious, but as he felt Urus's cold skin touch his forehead, he felt like he had lost the ability to move.
He wasn't paralyzed, but rather, the orders he gave from his brain to move his body were simply useless.
