The transition was an agonizing, silent unraveling. For a few terrifying seconds, Ken felt as though his flesh, his bones, and his very consciousness were being dragged through a sieve of absolute gravity. The dark, weeping vault beneath New York City vanished, replaced by an oppressive, suffocating density that filled his throat with the bitter taste of sulfur and old dust.
He had arrived.
Above him was only a staggering, vaulted expanse of absolute, pitch-black rock that seemed to stretch on for infinity, pressing down on the environment like the lid of a cosmic coffin. Stretching directly out from his feet was a narrow, jagged, and aggressively fractured stone bridge. It was unyielding and rough.
