Loyalty Till Death

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The landscape stretched endlessly beneath a thick, choking fog, a dark and unwelcoming place where even the bravest of creatures dared not tread. The sky was perpetually overcast, casting everything in shades of grey and black, save for the occasional flicker of distant lightning that illuminated the bleak terrain for but a fleeting moment. Jagged rocks jutted from the earth like the broken teeth of a long-dead giant, and the land beneath was slick with moisture, making the terrain treacherous for any who walked upon it. The air was heavy with the scent of decay, of old things long forgotten, and the silence was profound, broken only by the soft, steady breathing of Cain's unconscious form.

Cain lay in the center of this desolation, his body still and unmoving, save for the slow rise and fall of his chest. The blood orb that had formed on his forehead pulsed faintly, a deep, crimson light casting eerie shadows across his pale face.