As soon as you start reading the book, you feel the words rush into your retinas as if they were harassing you. You can't help but feel the knowledge flow into your mind and soul, tainting it with the darkened powers that you feel swarming into your brain. At first, everything seems surreal, but before you know it, you see a vision of what's to come.
The path before you is one of marrow and viscera. The carcasses of one and all lay before you, regardless of anything. Men, women, children, animals, everything around you is dead. You glance down at your arms, only to find them a transparent cerulean. You do not exist in this world anymore. You are merely an apparition, able to gaze into what may become of this world should you continue down the path of this book's grasp on necromancy.
As your vision starts to fade, you see the remains of a series of warriors, with two living figures amongst the crowds. There exists a pile of smoldering ash, a puddle of wasted dreams, a sword as red as the sky, an eyepatch, soaked in blood, and a sword, carried by the worlds most powerful mage. Behind all of the remains, you clearly see what is a warrior of divine wrath, though fallen to her knees and struggling to rise once again. What's beyond her, though, is even more terrifying.
You are barely able to catch a glimpse of an amputee mercenary, with black smoke and smog leaking from every orifice, before you find yourself wishing you were as far away from the sun as possible. For a moment, you cannot see anything but the color white, but as your vision returns, you find Brock holding onto your shoulder in an attempt to support you. "You okay? You went as pale as a beach for a moment."
Despite the words calling you back to the pages, you feel like you shouldn't reopen this book for a while...