Liam remained frozen, surrounded by a sea of nothingness. The darkness was so complete it pressed on his skin like damp cloth. No light. No shape. No sound—except one.
A distant shriek.
It wasn't human. It couldn't be. The sound cut through the silence like claws scraping bone, sending a pulse of dread through Liam's chest. It echoed across the stone walls like it came from every direction. But Liam didn't flinch. His hand moved on its own, reaching toward his side.
And there it was.
The familiar touch of his sword's hilt.
His fingers wrapped around it like it was the only real thing left in this black world. He gripped it tight and unsheathed it with a swift pull, the metallic slide echoing like a whisper in the dark.
And then—whoomph.
