The dimensional fabric of the Dark Realm tore open with a faint, greasy hiss.
A cluster of pitch-black spatial particles bled into the open air above the surface, knitting together to deposit Hide Volter onto earth. The moment his boots touched the gravel, his knees violently gave out.
THUD.
Hide collapsed forward, his palms slamming against the cracked ground.
His chest heaved erratically as a wave of vertigo assaulted his skull. Going in and out of the Dark Realm using Sovereign's Void-Walk four consecutive times in under ten minutes was a reckless gamble he had never attempted before. The Dark Realm was an ancient, non-Euclidean void whose dimensional pressures exerted a punishing, agonizing drag upon the mortal soul. Every nerve ending in his brain felt as though it had been scrubbed with coarse sandpaper.
And then there was his new talent, Abyssal Will.
