As the last tether snapped and the final soul cleared the mountain pass, the strength keeping Asarmose upright vanished. His knees buckled, and his body went limp, the grueling effort finally overdrawing his physical reserves.
Asarmose felt the world of the cellar vanish. One moment, he was a shield, his body a conduit for the agonizing roar of the connection; the next, the screaming voices of the thousands and the scent of ozone and copper were gone. The biting cold of the Haven's lower levels dissolved into a crushing, narrow pressure, as if his very soul were being pulled through the eye of a needle.
Then, the pressure snapped.
He opened his eyes to a vast, suffocating darkness.
