“Interesting. Both scythes, and yet so different from one another,” he mused. He swung them in succession, then simultaneously, whirling them around, exchanging hands, then exchanging hands again. It was a far cry from his practices, but at least he wasn’t smashing them together as he had with his first attempts with the staffs. “Alright, this is it!” he said, crossing the scythes above him. “Soul resonance!”
Swirling, drowning, helter-skelter madness. The feeling of waking up from a nightmare to find you haven’t woken up yet. That nagging feeling someone’s watching you from the shadows of an empty room. Dark, thick, oozing, swelling madness. And was that… piano music?