Deep beneath San Diego afterward where sunlight had never touched stone and forgotten rivers crawled endlessly through ancient caverns older than memory itself, silence finally broke apart beneath the breathing of something no prison should have held alive this long.
The underground world trembled endlessly afterward while black water crashed violently against shattered pillars and crimson symbols burned faintly across colossal stone walls drenched with centuries of dried blood and rotting prayer offerings.
Marcus Kane remained kneeling helplessly afterward upon fractured obsidian ground while terror hollowed visibly beneath pale ghoul features and trembling claws pressed sharply against the cavern floor.
He could barely breathe now.
Not from wounds.
From presence afterward beneath ancient pressure and impossible darkness surrounding the awakening entity before him.
