Rishang sprinted towards the exit, every fiber of his being screaming for escape. He knew it was close, only a few frantic breaths away. Yet, with each desperate stride, the world twisted, mocking him. The same stretch of hallway, the same peeling wallpaper, repeated endlessly after ten tormenting meters. He'd seen the anomaly, yet fear propelled him forward.
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He skidded to a halt, panting, trying to gain his bearings. Panic clawed at his throat. Nothing, not a single detail, was familiar. He whirled around, searching for landmarks, but his frantic gaze met only mocking echoes.
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Suddenly, the taxi driver materialized from the swirling mist. He didn't speak, just advanced with menacing intent. Their eyes locked, a silent battle of wills. Rish knew he was outmatched, fear a cold fist in his gut. The driver lunged, his shove sending Rish tumbling.
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He expected the sting of asphalt, but instead, an orange haze engulfed him, the world dissolving into chaos. Trees contorted in agony, ripped apart by the swirling mist. It stretched as far as he could see, a suffocating orange prison.
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A fiery scar in the sky coughed them out. Gravity slammed Garvin onto the ochre dust, the world exploding in a symphony of coughs and blurred vision. The metallic tang of burnt metal choked him, the monstrous creature's screech still echoing in his ears.
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