The transition from the ruined, glowing cavern to the isolated spatial pocket was not smooth. It felt like being dragged through a wall of solid ice. The sudden shift in atmospheric pressure forced the air out of their lungs in a violent rush. The deafening noise of the battlefield—the shattering stone, the roaring flames, the heavy impacts of metal on bone—was instantly, completely severed.
Absolute, suffocating silence took its place.
Corbin hit the solid stone floor hard. The impact sent a brutal shockwave up his shins, traveling through his battered kneecaps and settling deep into his fractured pelvis. He rolled, his shoulder scraping against the rough, uneven ground. His heavy leather armor, already shredded from the fight with the demon, offered no protection. The friction tore the remaining fabric and scraped his raw flesh, leaving a smear of dark blood on the cold rock.
