Stan reached the guest room a split second after the System's warning flashed across his vision.
He hadn't teleported. Some instinct had told him that folding space inside an apartment filled with unstable Qi was a terrible idea. So he ran instead.
The living room blurred as he crossed it. He struck the guest room door with his palm, sending it swinging open hard enough to make the hinges groan.
A wave of heat greeted him.
It wasn't the ordinary warmth of a heated room. The air was dry and oppressive, almost like standing before an open furnace. Worse, the temperature kept fluctuating. One moment it was unbearably hot, the next it dropped sharply before another wave of heat rolled through the room, making the curtains flutter against the windows.
Sarah was sitting upright in the middle of the bed.
