While Sarah and Fenris fought for their lives in the glowing, coral cathedral, Edward was navigating a very different, and very wet, circle of hell. The twisted, gravity-defying alley he had landed in eventually opened up into a wider, submerged district. It was a sunken boulevard, a vast, open space that might have once been a grand promenade, but was now a stagnant, murky canal.
He stood on a crumbling stone embankment, looking out over a cityscape that was half-drowned. Ornate, cyclopean buildings, their impossible angles softened by centuries of water erosion, rose from the dark, still water. A thick, greenish-brown fog, heavy with the stench of salt and decay, clung to the surface, obscuring the view beyond a few hundred feet. The only light came from the same, sickly phosphorescence that seemed to emanate from the very stones of Y'ha-nthlei, casting a pale, underwater glow on the scene.
