A void of silence swallowed Ochieng whole. Weightless. Boundless. Infinite. His body no longer felt like his own, drifting through an abyss so dark it made night seem bright.
Then came the whispers.
Faint at first. Murmuring voices, overlapping, each filled with something… wrong. Ochieng couldn't tell if they were speaking to him or if he was merely hearing the echoes of something far older than he could comprehend.
Then, a voice cut through the whispers.
"You do not belong here."
Ochieng tried to move. He couldn't. His arms, his legs, even his breath—all frozen.
Then the abyss shifted.
A figure emerged, not from the darkness, but as if it were the darkness itself. Its form was constantly changing, a flowing silhouette of shadows. Two glowing eyes bore into him, their hue shifting from a deep crimson to a searing gold.
"Yet here you stand," the entity continued, its voice layered with countless echoes. "Fate is either foolish... or you are."
Ochieng's pulse thundered in his ears, but he forced his mind to stay clear. Fear was a weapon, and he refused to let it be used against him.
"Who are you?" His voice came out stronger than he expected.
The figure didn't answer. Instead, it reached forward. A long, clawed hand stretched toward his face.
Ochieng didn't flinch.
And then—a sudden explosion of light.
A sharp pain tore through his chest, and the abyss around him cracked like shattered glass. The dark figure hissed, recoiling. Something else was pulling him away.
And then—
He fell.
———
Ochieng gasped awake, choking on air. His back slammed against cold stone, the weight of reality crashing down on him all at once.
He was back.
The cavern. The dim blue glow of Cassandra's scanner. The heavy silence. Lin Feng kneeling beside him, shaking his shoulder.
"Ochieng!" Lin Feng's voice was sharp. "What the hell just happened?"
Ochieng looked around, his mind struggling to grasp what had just occurred. His body ached, but there was something worse—something deeper. A mark burned into his very soul.
And then he noticed it.
On the palm of his left hand.
A symbol. Etched in dark, shifting ink, like a living shadow.
Cassandra's eyes widened when she saw it. "That mark…"
Ochieng swallowed hard. He didn't know what had just happened. He didn't know what that thing was.
But he knew one thing for certain.
It wasn't over.