Ambrose gasped like he'd lifted himself off an ocean when his consciousness got to the other side—the Black mask's dimension, not hell.
The place was as dark, vast and empty as he remembered. He floated at the centre of it all, already feeling way too exposed for comfort.
"Enough of this," he muttered right before raising his voice, "Hey, Ambrose? OG Ambrose! It's me—the other worlder. Slash the new father of your son. Who's also technically my son too."
If Aura could slip into this dimension with him, she'd probably make fun of how awkward he was being right now.
Ambrose bent his neck to the left. Then right.
He was beginning to wonder if the damn black mask was broken when it echoed from behind him:
"Don't tell me you're going to make these meetings a habit, Benji."
That made the Guide freeze. He spun his neck slowly around, not at all surprised when he saw a cloaked figure hovering about ten meters away.
