For Abel, the silence was a relief after the lights and the noise. The constant scraping and the spiderweb cracks that had formed his world were replaced with endless white and a quietness.
But not truly silent.
There were gentle chimes, like rain on crystal. Abel looked up. Nephilim was standing there like sunrise, her smile a song.
He hadn't known what time was, before he'd incorporated into the material world four thousand years ago. He'd had no concept of waiting, or wanting.
The last moment was the longest, folding in on itself. Then Nephilim took his hand in hers.