Gabriel continued down the corridor.
Halfway down the corridor, something inside him snapped.
For a moment, the world tilted.
A sharp heat crawled to the back of his skull, then blood poured from his nose, warm and thick. Splashing onto the wooden. Floorboards. He took a deep breath, resting his hand on the wall to hold himself up.
The room seemed to pulse with each beat of his weakening heart.
His fingers released their grip on the hilt of his swords. He couldn't hold the weight of them.
What's happening to me?
His vision blurred, first at the edges, then inward. Darkness leaked into the corner of his sight like spilt ink spreading across parchment.
He forced himself forward, placing one hand on the wall for support.
The robe and sheath Gabriel had folded lay neatly stacked in the middle of the corridor. The demon-eyed adventurer walked past it without slowing, his boots dragging against the floor.
Hanitz! Hanitz!
