"Seriously? I hate portals now." Rhys cursed as he walked out of the shimmering portal, retching.
The world was no longer black and silent. It was filled with a low, mournful whistle, the sound of wind blowing over a vast and empty land.
Rhys's eyes adjusted quickly. He found himself standing on a surface of fine, white sand that was hot to the touch even through the soles of his boots.
He was still holding Emma's hand. He looked around, his senses taking in the new, harsh environment.
The first thing he noticed was the air. It wasn't just air. It was thick and heavy, saturated with a rich, potent energy that was almost a physical presence.
He took a single, deep breath, and his entire body reacted. His 108 Ascendent Cores, which had been spinning at a slow, steady pace, suddenly flared to life.
They began to absorb the ambient spiritual energy with a desperate, frantic hunger. It was like a starving man being placed in the middle of a grand banquet.
