I reach a room that has to be a chapel or at least my interpretation of one. It's dark, in comparison to rest of the place and there are flashes of gold relics lining the walls, but nothing discernable as a symbol. There are people there. Lots of disembodied voices offering up prayers:
I see the words. They're tied to people by thin silvery wires. I follow the web of lines and it leads me to people. These people are dying. Their bodies are blackened shapes wrapped in silvery words. I begin speaking but I don't know the words i'm saying. They're added to the other words and in doing so they change them:
I see the black wounds growing lighter. They fade and the people are revived.