The world snapped back into focus with a jolt that was more mental than physical. One moment, there was the screaming chaos of the transition. The next, there was only silence and still, cold air.
Lucian blinked, his boots settling on a smooth, featureless floor. Marc stood beside him, his posture tense, his eyes already scanning their surroundings. They were in a vast, dim space. The air hummed with a low, pervasive energy that felt both ancient and deeply wrong.
And there he was.
Alistair stood waiting for them, as if he'd been expecting their arrival at this exact spot. A small, almost disappointed smile played on his lips.
"Lucian," he said, his voice echoing slightly in the stillness. His eyes, so like Lucian's own, swept over him, scrutinizing, probing. A frown creased his brow. "You did not awaken."
