The pressure was a physical weight on Adam's spirit. He could feel the approaching presence—multiple entities, moving with coordinated, predatory intent.
Their vibrations through the stone were methodical, not the chaotic scuttling of dungeon fauna. Their scent was familiar, carrying the sharp, clean smells of oiled metal, treated leather, and human sweat. And a faint, buzzing psionic overlay of focused intent, of hunting.
He couldn't run. Behind him, encased in silk and shimmering heat, Lilith and Ignis were at their most vulnerable, their forms shifting and melting in the crucible of evolution. Leaving them was unthinkable.
'Think, damn it! They're coming. I can't fight them all, not like this. I can't move the others—what if it disrupts their evolution? Catastrophe. Too risky.'
A cold, familiar dread began to seep into his thoughts, the specter of helplessness he'd felt against the Void Entity. His breath hitched, his wounds throbbing in time with his racing heart.
