Clone One stood still on the flat black plain with his feet planted on the icy stone. He pulled his Primordial Essence back into his body and locked his presence all the way down. Anyone who walked past him with their eyes closed would feel nothing but cold, empty rock.
The pale leader was fast, but he was panicked. And in such panic, he had left clues.
Even on stone as hard and slick as black glass, his sprint had left faint scuffs where his boots scraped the surface. Clone One could smell his fear too. Above, the four pale moons threw long, overlapping shadows across the plain, and every few seconds, far ahead, one of those shadows flickered as the runner cut through the silver light.
Clone One took a step forward. His boots made no sound on the rock.
