Despite the lack of sight beyond the door's wooden frame there was nothing stopping her from going further. There was a specific ticking noise coming from the other side. The more she approached, the more the ticking would become more vibrant, its volume increasing with every step taken forward. She would see her hand vanish in the void kept at bay only by the decaying door frame if she tried to figuratively test the waters. Two, joined voices spoke at unison deep into the depths of what cannot be seen. There was sobbing. There were pleads for help. There was a voice thanking itself for everything and nothing at the same time, shifting only slightly to a state of rage rather than sadness - and sometimes of acceptance. Happiness. The cycle kept repeating. Every thunder bolt that struck the dirt outside the Cathedral's sickened territory provoked a reaction from the entrance Revenant faced. She was left with a simple question.
Press on, or abandon the Watcher's Cathedral. Its shrine dedicated to The Harbinger's influence upon the mind and body of a damaged tool too tired to have a heartbeat of its own, yet too stubborn to die like a nobody. Yet another choice, laid bare for the Bird to decide.
"Test the sharpness of your sword against another. And when that is not enough, unsheathe your cunning as the hidden dagger that ends the fight."
