Kaelen and Kelvin stood frozen, their breaths shallow in a void that seemed to swallow every ounce of sound and sensation.
Darkness.
Not the kind you find at night—but a suffocating, absolute black that pressed in from all directions, erasing the world and warping time itself. It felt like standing in a coffin made of shadow, the air tight and unmoving, the silence thick enough to scream.
And worst of all—
No mana.
Kaelen gritted his teeth, clenching his sword tighter. "I can't even feel Pandora," he muttered, his voice barely escaping his throat.
Kelvin, beside him, drew in a breath and held out his palm—only for nothing to happen. No spark. No shimmer. Not even a flicker of light.
"…Mana's gone," Kelvin said grimly. "We've been cut off completely."
Then—
A voice echoed from nowhere, like wind slipping through bones.
"Welcome to the Abyssal Crucible."
It was Naeva's voice, but detached—ancient, almost inhuman.
