The air grew heavy with sinister intent, as if dark and hideous emotions had taken tangible form. Whispers of despair emanated from the fog, carrying a haunted fragment of history within. The wails of the forsaken echoed through the oppressive mist, blurring the line between reality and imagination.
But orion didn't let panic over come his reson, despite the subtle undercurrent of fear that coursed through him. He was prepared to confront whatever lay ahead.
He was determined to confront Raven at all costs. However, the deeper he ventured, the more terrifying the sense of dread became. The smoke grew thicker and more insidious with each step, devouring every glimmer of light. At some point, he could no longer tell which direction he had come from or where he was headed; all he could sense was the dark veil of smoke, leaving him in a harrowing abyss of disorientation.