The oppressive heat of the labyrinth had settled into Nathan's bones, a constant pressure that refused to let up. He stood at the edge of a molten river, its surface roiling with bursts of flame that hissed and cracked in the suffocating air. The glow cast his face in sharp relief, painting him in the same fiery hues that surrounded him. For the first time since entering the Inferno Abyss, silence enveloped him—no phantoms, no whispers, no monsters. Just the steady churn of fire and molten rock.
His reflection wavered in the molten river, distorted and otherworldly. The man staring back at him looked like a stranger: hollow eyes, sunken cheeks, soot smeared across his face like war paint. He barely recognized himself anymore.
