The Spark in the Abyss

The darkness lunged.

Not like a beast. Not like a predator.

But like a tide.

It didn't strike, didn't lash out—it pulled, drew, folding over the edges of reality like a void dragging us into itself. The structure—the thing in front of us—wasn't waiting anymore. It was moving, bleeding into the space around us, its glow sharpening into something more than just light.

It wasn't a building.

It wasn't a wound.

It was something trying to become.

Liv dug her fingers into my arm, her sparks flaring, meeting mine in a chaotic tangle of kinetic energy. My rifle hummed, the charge surging, but it didn't fire. The trigger was locked—jammed—not because it was broken, but because the Hollow didn't allow weapons here.

It was rewriting the rules.

And we were running out of time.

"Move!" Liv shouted.