The Abyss pressed in on Nathan with an unrelenting ferocity, the heat growing heavier, more oppressive. Each step forward felt like walking into a furnace set to break him piece by piece. The molten ground beneath his boots cracked and hissed, the fiery veins within pulsing like a living heartbeat. The whispers that had once been faint now roared like a tide, crashing against the edges of his mind.
A shadow flickered ahead, indistinct at first but growing more defined as he advanced. It wasn't the solid, monstrous forms he'd fought before; it wavered and shimmered, a figure half-formed and ethereal. Nathan's jaw tightened as the ember phantom took on a familiar shape—one he didn't want to see.
His sister, Sarah, stood before him. Her face was clear, her expression painted with worry. She looked just as she had the last time he'd seen her—before everything fell apart. Her lips moved, her voice soft but urgent.
