Ra stumbled back, clutching his head as the overwhelming pain surged through him.
His knees buckled, and he fell to the cold stone floor. The images flooding his mind became sharper—red landscapes, and towering structures of steel and glass.
Draven rushed to his side. "What's happening? Talk to me!"
Ra's fingers dug into the floor as if grounding himself against the pain raging in his head.
His lips parted, but no sound came out. Desperation took over, and he had no choice but to sever the connection.
Ra slumped forward, gasping for air as the weight lifted, but the toll on his mind lingered.
Then, he sat up slowly, wiping at the blood on his face. His body trembled, but he forced himself to steady his breathing.
"I saw it," he whispered, his voice hoarse.
"Saw what?" Draven asked, kneeling beside him.
"The coordinates... and something else. Something wrong."
