Loryn led them through a massive doorway that opened onto the impossible landscape of Floor 25.
The transition from the castle's stone interior to the glowing terrain outside was jarring, like stepping from midnight into a perpetual sunset.
Rhys gasped as his winter-ice eyes adjusted to the bioluminescent grass that pulsed beneath his boots. Each step sent ripples of soft light spreading outward like stones dropped in still water.
Sylph hovered close to Rhys's shoulder, her tiny form rigid with lingering tension from the revelations that had shattered her understanding of reality.
Her black-and-green eyes darted constantly, as if expecting new impossibilities to manifest at any moment.
"This way," Loryn said, his raspy voice carrying warmth despite his skeletal appearance. "I'll show you what the young master has built for his army."
