Inside that boundless void, Myles continued to drift without direction as the thick darkness and slow-moving mist surrounded him from every side, pressing in yet never truly touching him.
He no longer felt the battlefield or the weight of his weapons. Or even the presence of Red. Only the memory remained, lingering at the edge of his awareness. It clashed harshly with the stillness of this place.
His thoughts struggled to catch up with what had happened as confusion filled him, followed by a slow and painful clarity that forced its way into his mind.
He remembered the fight, the clash of blades, the surge of power, and then George's voice breaking through everything.
Clara and Daniel were dead.
The realization did not strike him all at once this time. It seeped into him, spreading through his chest until it tightened and twisted into unbearable pain, dragging despair along with it as his breathing grew heavier despite the emptiness around him.
