[20 / 9 / 1]
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A void carved deep into dense rock. Water flowing through cracks in the ceiling, dripping down, building spikes of stone over millennia. Blind troglodytes squirm in pools, reacting to an unseen force. Something appears in the space. It reaches out and….
Then comes blinding light, a cacophony of sound, an eclectic mixture of tastes and smells, burning heat, freezing cold and the feeling that your body is being torn apart.
You reflexively try to flail about, but nothing happens, the overwhelming pain and sensations continue unabated, you can’t even tell where any of them are coming from, it’s as if your entire body is one giant phantom limb.
As you try to scream out, a dark patch spread out from the centre of your vision, within are a pair of glowing spheres. They draw in your focus, drowning out the pain and other sensations, a strange feeling of familiarity falls on your mind.
A long silence and deep calm follow. You feel as if all will be well.
Something begins to gnaw at your consciousness, a wooden creak. Quiet, at first, it grinds at the back of your mind. The sound builds, drawing more of your focus, it becomes an onslaught of groaning and rending wood, until…
Then comes blinding light, a cacophony of sound, an eclectic mixture of tastes and smells, burning heat, freezing cold and the feeling that your body is being torn apart.
You reflexively try to flail about, but nothing happens, the overwhelming pain and sensations continue unabated, you can’t even tell where any of them are coming from, it’s as if your entire body is one giant phantom limb.
As you try to scream out, a dark patch spread out from the centre of your vision, within are a pair of glowing spheres. They draw in your focus, drowning out the pain and other sensations, a strange feeling of familiarity falls on your mind.
A long silence and deep calm follow. You feel as if all will be well.
Something begins to gnaw at your consciousness, a wooden creak. Quiet, at first, it grinds at the back of your mind. The sound builds, drawing more of your focus, it becomes an onslaught of groaning and rending wood, until…
