Chichen Itza was the same, yet there was a distinct change in the air. The sky was darker, as if it was dawn and the sun was setting, and a cool autumn wind brushed his hair.
'Where is everyone?'
The witches were gone. Nash's friends had disappeared. He glanced over at William's unconscious form. Red hand prints were left on his face, the red blood of the lake having stained him and his garbs, seeping into the chainmail underneath.
His breath hitched, eyelids twitching, and William muttered, "N-no, not…her…" His level had returned and the chills dissipated.
Kazi was fixated on him, running through ideas. 'If I leave with William, can I even come back here? To this specific rendition of the gate? I know for a fact that Server Rooms lead to different iterations of Gates.'
