Amidst the labyrinthine corridors of the Underworld, where the echoes of departed souls whispered their eternal lamentations, there stood a balcony overlooking the vast expanse of the realm of death. Carved from obsidian and adorned with intricate runes that pulsed with a faint, ethereal light, it was a place of solemn contemplation and quiet introspection, where the God of Death, Than Moros, would often retreat to seek solace in the embrace of the shadows.

As the veil of night draped itself over the horizon, suffusing the underworld in an eerie glow, Than emerged from the depths of his domain, his form shrouded in robes as black as the void itself. With each step, the darkness seemed to writhe and coil around him, as if eager to embrace its master. Ascending the steps of the balcony with a silent grace, he paused at the threshold, his eyes alight with an otherworldly glow that pierced through the gloom like twin beacons of mortality.

Stepping out onto the balcony, Than was greeted by a sight that transcended mortal comprehension. Before him stretched an endless expanse of shadow and silence, broken only by the distant wails of the departed and the soft rustle of the wind as it whispered through the cavernous halls of the Underworld. The air was heavy with the scent of decay, mingling with the faint scent of ancient magic that permeated the very fabric of the realm.

With a solemn reverence, Than Moros raised his gaze to the heavens, where the stars burned with a cold and distant light, their twinkling brilliance casting strange and shifting shadows upon the world below. In the distance, the pale glow of the mortal realm shimmered like a distant mirage, a reminder of the ephemeral nature of existence and the inexorable march of time toward the end.

Closing his eyes, Than Moros allowed himself to be enveloped by the silence of the Underworld, letting the weight of eternity wash over him like a tidal wave.