South.
The map said south. My brain said nope.
Even before I reached it, the atmosphere changed. The air got cold, the sky dimmed, and the horizon turned into this swirling pit of darkness that looked like it could eat hope for breakfast.
I stopped at the edge and stared into the void.
"This is it, huh? The abyss."
The ground literally ended here, cracked stone and mist bleeding into a bottomless chasm. Shadows moved down there. I couldn't tell if they were monsters or my imagination, which, frankly, was worse.
I tightened my grip on my sword. Leonhart's sword. Leonhart's muscles. Leonhart's face.
And yet somehow… still my brain. My terrified, screaming, 'nope, nope, nope' brain.
"I hate ghosts," I muttered. "I hate the dark. I hate undead things that crawl, float, or moan. Why can't the next core be hidden in a bakery? A nice little bakery with sunshine and bread?"
Silence.
The abyss didn't care.
