The overwhelming white light consumed everything in sight.
For a moment, Volk couldn't feel the ground beneath his feet, nor the familiar weight of his Axe of Dissection in his hands.
It was as though time and space had collapsed into a single point, erasing all sense of direction.
His body floated, suspended in the void, with nothing to anchor him.
Then, he heard her voice. Urza'lin.
Her cold, mocking tone slithered into his mind like a poison, her words echoing in the vast emptiness.
"Strange Orc," she began, her voice a low, malicious hum, "you're stronger than I anticipated. You've pushed me farther than anyone has in centuries."
The sound of her voice was filled with twisted admiration, the kind that was laced with bitterness and resentment.
Volk's muscles tensed instinctively, though his body still felt paralyzed by the white void that engulfed him.
