The heavy stone wall did not just close; it slammed into the floor with a force that shook the dust from the ceiling straight down their dry throats. The muffled, heavy boom of Morcant's gravity blast vibrated through the solid rock a second later, a dull thud that felt like a punch to the chest. Then came the dark. It was a thick, crushing blackness that smelled of ancient dust, crushed iron ore, and the copper tang of Elara's bleeding hand, which she still pressed flat against the stone.
Nobody spoke. The silence was absolute, save for the sound of their own ragged breathing.
"Megan," Varic's voice was a rough, terrified whisper somewhere to the left. "The flint. Strike the flint."
