[Oliver's P.O.V.]
The red glow of the teleport stone faded—yet Oliver's hand closed on nothing but air.
The others were gone.
The Return Stone had taken them all, leaving only the fading shimmer of magic in the chamber. A cruel afterimage of escape.
Oliver stumbled forward, reaching desperately as if he could still catch them. His fingers grasped only empty space. His knees buckled, smacking against the cold stone floor.
"…No. No, no, no…" His voice cracked. It echoed in the vast, ruined chamber but carried no answer.
Then—
Thoom.
A heavy step shook the ground.
Oliver's head whipped up, eyes wide.
From the shadows, hulking shapes emerged. Golems.
Half the constructs had been shattered during the fight, their bodies nothing more than rubble scattered across the ground. But several remained intact—and for Oliver, even one was more than enough.
