A black and white storm raged in the void. It twisted once, paused, then burst outward like clouds torn apart by a scream.
Smoke and light flew high. For a moment, the world was nothing but static, frozen between one second and the next.
Then, the illusion was gone.
The city of Castella returned.
The dream world, its soft lights and surreal shapes, had vanished. In its place stood the real city, grounded and whole.
The buildings were back in their proper place. Streets reformed. Stones solidified. Trees swayed in the real wind.
And the people appeared one by one, blinking, confused, exactly where they had been when the wave of destruction reached them.
It was like waking up from a nightmare, only to find yourself still standing on the edge of a cliff.
There was silence at first.
The demons were the first to feel it. Sleep demons and crimson agents scattered through the city staggered and looked around, stunned.
