"Do you know where we are?" Michael asked.
Fade answered without hesitation.
"We are in the elven realm," he said.
Michael froze.
"The elven realm?" he repeated, as if the words refused to settle in his mind.
His eyes swept across the forest again. The towering trees. The clean air. The mana so dense it clung to his skin like mist. He had assumed this was some strange pocket on a lower floor of Hell. But a realm?
A full realm?
How?
His chest tightened, and unease rose before he could suppress it.
"How did I get here?" Michael asked, his voice sharper than he intended.
Fade remained calm.
"You fell unconscious," he said. "The damage to your soul was severe. Your state was unstable."
Fade continued without pause.
"After you lost consciousness, Spartan approached the other race leaders. He asked if there was a way to stabilize your condition."
Michael's eyes narrowed slightly.
"And?"
