The darkness pressed against Jack from all sides, a void so complete it felt less like an absence of light and more like a presence of something actively consuming illumination.
His breathing echoed strangely in the emptiness, sound reflecting off nothing while simultaneously seeming to come from everywhere at once.
Malakai was positioned ten feet away, his translucent form emitting a silver luminescence that delineated his presence without overtly illuminating the surrounding emptiness.
The veins across his face pulsed with a rhythm that matched something Jack couldn't quite identify.
Not his own heartbeat, or any external sound, but some deeper pattern that existed beneath perception.
Jack's tactical mind assessed the situation with clinical precision despite the horror still churning from the illusion's collapse.
He couldn't use magic; that much had been proven when his lightning dispersed harmlessly moments ago.
