As the mist cleared, Eleanor and Thea stood like statues, encased in shimmering shields that pulsed with their frantic heartbeats. Their faces were etched with horror, eyes wide with shock, fixed on Atlan's limp form.
But when they turned to Lysander, horror deepened on their features. Behind him, a colossal door constructed from dark, foreboding bricks loomed, its presence darkening the air.
"What is that?" Thea gasped, her voice barely audible.
"I think... that's a door to the Heavenly Realm." Eleanor's whisper trembled with dread.
Their shields dissolved, abandoned in their shock.
Thea swallowed. "It looks more like a path to a prison in the Heavenly Realm."
Frantically, they rushed to Atlan's side. Thea's trembling fingers probed his neck, desperate for a pulse.
"I can't... I can't feel a pulse." Her wide eyes strayed to Eleanor's, anxiety carving deep lines on her pale face.
