Raising the shotgun, I took a slow step forward; every crunch of my boots against the dead leaves sounded like a gunshot in my own ears.
I kept my breathing incredibly shallow, sweeping the barrel left and right as I inched closer to the eldritch tear in the hillside.
My spatial domain pushed out to its ten-meter limit, acting as an invisible tripwire, while my two seconds of precognition hummed quietly in the background. But none of that stopped the cold sweat from trickling down my spine.
With Eyes of Relevance active, the world remained locked in that high-contrast spectrum of charcoal and ash, peeling back the harsh shadows and rendering the steep, pitch-black tunnel ahead in crisp shades of grey.
