Raiden lay on the ground, his breath warming the floor and lifting smoky dust into the air. The ground felt comfortable and inviting enough for him to sleep eternally. It felt like home.
Yet sleep didn't feel like the right choice at that moment. He opened his eyes a fraction and saw himself lying on smoky skeletons.
Fear jolted through him as he scrambled to his feet. His breathing became labored as the sight before him slowly stole his breath.
He found himself in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by everything made of thick dark smoke—as if shadows had taken physical form. Even the air and the grass on the ground were no exception.
His gaze shot instinctively toward the east, where a glowing full moon hung suspended above. Adding to his confusion, everything the moonlight touched appeared to transform into smoky wisps.
