The transmigration system sputtered and died, replaced by a chilling emptiness. Unlike the void they were accustomed to when navigating the Tapestry, this nothingness felt…malignant. A suffocating pressure pressed down on them, and the haunting melody that had beckoned them morphed into a discordant cacophony, a chorus of whispers that chilled them to the bone.
Anya, ever the pragmatist, squeezed Alex's hand, grounding him. Her touch was a beacon in the suffocating darkness. "We need to focus," she said, her voice barely a whisper.
Alex, the scholar within him battling a rising tide of fear, nodded. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to hear not the discord, but the familiar melody of the Tapestry itself, a comforting reminder of the reality they were trying to protect.
Slowly, a shimmering bubble materialized around them, a testament to Anya's magic. It pushed back the oppressive darkness, creating a fragile haven of normalcy.
