There was always something about the darkness that intrigued her, that sense of weightless emptiness, like slipping into a dream where the rules of reality no longer applied.
But this wasn't a dream.
Sera Delacroix floated in the void, suspended between light and shadow, between life and death. She felt the pull of something deep, something ancient, beckoning her closer. The air, though still, vibrated with an unseen energy. She couldn't move, couldn't scream—only watch as the void around her twisted, reshaping itself into something darker, something far more sinister.
The first sound she heard was the whisper of the wind, though no wind blew. It spoke of forgotten things—of lost souls and shattered destinies, of a place where time stood still. A place beyond the mortal world.
Limbo.
The name echoed in her mind like a distant memory. And with it, came the weight of countless others who had passed through this place. She wasn't the first to be trapped here, and she wouldn't be the last.
"You're close, Sera," a voice whispered through the void, low and haunting. "Closer than you think."
It was a voice she had never heard before, yet one that felt as familiar as her own heartbeat. It filled her with a chilling certainty—this was not her world anymore.
She should have been afraid, but there was no room for fear here. Only the dark certainty that whatever had brought her to this place, whatever force had dragged her into Limbo, was not finished with her yet.
And just as suddenly as it had begun, the silence shattered. The darkness gave way to a flicker of light, and with it, the faint outline of a figure—tall, cloaked in shadow, standing at the edge of the void. His eyes, though obscured, seemed to pierce straight through her.
"You've crossed into a world you don't understand," the figure said, his voice a calm storm. "But that doesn't mean you don't have a part to play."
As the last remnants of the mortal world slipped away, Sera knew one thing for certain: death was not the end.
It was only the beginning.