Andrey's nights were chaotic and bleak, and for the Liches who never closed their eyes, the moonlight flickered like a candlelight, lit and extinguished. Time passed like sand falling through fingers, and the Liches cared not for such meaningless things, after all, they had no deadline to meet.
With their fleshly disguises, the Liches grew a new anticipation for the sun. What once irritated the undead became the most exquisite dinner bell, offering a different definition from the constant companion of moonlight. But this distinction between day and night, the fine times and true indifference, brought only temporary satisfaction to the Liches, akin to the fleeting sweetness of food on the taste buds, silently slipping through the gaps in the bones.
But tonight, not just the Law, but all Liches, whether Suppressors or rebels, felt the pressure and agony prolonged through time.
