The frenzied Jerome roared, his body trembling under the onslaught of rage and pain as his spatial magic flared uncontrollably around him. He was moments away from teleporting when a black spider materialized before him. Its sudden appearance caused him to pause. He intended to strike it down, but something stopped him—the faint scent of something achingly familiar.
Then, a voice. A soft, soothing voice that pierced through the maelstrom in his mind and anchored him to reality.
"Jerome, hang on. I'll come to you soon."
The voice stirred his soul, breaking through the chaos and darkness. The sea of evil spirits that had nearly drowned his consciousness began to recede as Jerome fought his way free. He tore himself out of the grasping hands, their cold, malevolent touch fading with every step he took. Slowly, awareness returned, and with it came excruciating pain that radiated through his broken body.
