The Mark of the Abyss

Daniel's body trembled as he steadied his breathing. The presence of the abyss still lingered in his mind, an echo of something vast and incomprehensible. His instincts screamed at him to run, but his evolving nature whispered something else entirely—to listen, to understand.

But there was no time.

Mira landed beside him, her body tensed, her eyes scanning the tendrils of darkness that swayed unnaturally in the void's presence. They pulsed, waiting, responding to his hesitation. The abyss wasn't merely trying to consume him.

It was acknowledging him.

He clenched his fists. No. Now wasn't the time to entertain the madness clawing at the edges of his mind. He needed to move.

"Mira, we have to get out of here," he said, forcing his feet to step back. "That thing—it's not something we can fight. Not yet."

Her eyes flickered with uncertainty, but she nodded. "Then we run."