"Guys... I-I'm not the only one feeling this, right?" Freya stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Unfortunately not, Freya. I'm sensing it too," Art replied, attempting a casual tone. "And let me tell you—it's not exactly sunshine and rainbows over here."
But even as the words left his mouth, his voice cracked, betraying the forced bravado.
Art scoffed inwardly. 'And here I was, all cocky, thinking I'd just scoot off the moment things got dicey… He clenched his jaw. Idiot. Fucking idiot.'
At once something clicked in his brain, a thought which had barely left his mind. He turned on instinct, eyes searching through the thick, colorless dark. He wasn't even sure which direction he faced anymore, but his mind was clear in its intent.
He was looking for Zyon.
