The obsidian key, still warm in Andrew's hand, felt less like a trophy and more like a grim invitation. The Labyrinth's archway, formerly a simple portal, now shimmered with an unsettling, kaleidoscopic light. It pulsed with a silent, hungry energy, each ripple of light a promise of disorientation and psychological torment. Behind it, the twilight of Oblivia stretched, an ominous backdrop to the next phase of his nightmare.
"Ready?" Marrow's voice, now devoid of the earlier surprise, was low and even, a dangerous calm restored. His eyes, however, lingered on Andrew's newly acquired shadow Specters, who hovered silently behind their nascent master.
The four spectral forms moved as one with Andrew's subconscious intent, a truly unsettling, yet profoundly powerful, extension of his will. The six rogue shadows, Marrow's own loyal cadre, flanked them, their forms rippling with a silent, watchful anticipation.
