Horrors of Hell [4]

It was cold—so cold that Yelena shivered, clutching her bow tightly as she moved forward. Only darkness lay ahead, endless and pitch-black, swallowing everything around her.

Not even her footsteps echoed.

"Lumine... are you there...?" she whispered, her voice barely breaking the silence.

She didn't dare speak louder, as if fearing something would answer.

But no one did.

'I... I'm scared...'

The thought clawed its way through her mind, almost too close to voice. Alone, in the silence and dark, she longed for the sound of gods clashing, winds howling, or even screams. Any chaos would be better than this.

'We should never have come here...'

Regret gnawed at her, pulling her mind back to Prince Azriel's invitation, the one that had lured her into this forsaken realm. She'd thought herself ready, but standing here now, Yelena knew the truth: she wasn't. None of them were. Not her, not Lumine. Maybe no one was.