Only Real When Shared

It is not Mother that comes to the shrine. In fact, it isn’t anything, really. The frozen bubble Nate has popped remains fractured, the bubbles beneath where he has placed his fluid begin to fracture and break as well. Whatever is here, is not happy. In a matter of seconds, a series of icy pale wraiths from souls long passed have him surrounded, some voices in unison, some incoherent, flood his head his head. The words garbled and jumbled together, but one thing can be heard loud and clear above all else. Abomination. Then, as quickly as they had arrived, they vanish. Leaving Nate alone.