As I stare into the tiny flame the old ladies words keep playing in my mind “A soul is much like a flame. It does not exist to simply be. It must be fed and nourished so that a flame becomes a fire. However, precaution is needed to handle such a thing. In one’s control it can create such beauty and flow abundantly. Although, when out of control it can become the greatest distraction that will destroy everything in its path” As I recite them once more I blow out a breath heavily.

I know that this place is supposed to be Morbius’ soul but the only thing in it...