Blackness and silence surround him, seep into him.
He wonders how long it has been. A minute? A day? A million years?
Even the familiar thump thump of his heart has stopped. He ponders this, and reaches his hand to his chest, but he finds that he has no hand, and that he has no chest.
He simply exists, seeing, hearing, feeling nothing.
He waits for something to happen, and wonders if he is dead.