The void swallowed them whole, a suffocating mass of darkness swirling, tugging, separating. Ava's screams echoed into the abyss, but her voice was lost, drowned by the haunting silence that surrounded her. The air, thick and oppressive, seemed to pulse with life, taunting her with its cold, relentless grip.
She was alone.
Again.
Her body floated, weightless and disconnected, as the shadows circled, pulling her deeper into their embrace. This void, this nothingness—it was more familiar than she cared to admit. It was the very essence of the emptiness she had fought her entire life to escape. And now, it had found her once more.
"You thought you could run from me?" a voice whispered, soft and sinister. Ava's heart stilled. That voice. She knew it.
But it wasn't a stranger. It wasn't the future Ava. It was her own. Her voice, broken and twisted, dripping with the bitterness of failure.
"You failed. Again."
