The thrumming from the abyss was a constant, physical presence. It wasn't a sound you heard with your ears, but a vibration you felt in your teeth, in your bones, in the very marrow of your soul. It was the slow, heavy heartbeat of a broken world, and it was the most terrifying thing I had ever experienced.
We retreated from the ledge, finding a small, relatively dry alcove a hundred yards back down the tunnel. It offered no real protection, but the psychological distance from that infinite, churning darkness was a balm I desperately needed. Shi, ever the pragmatist, immediately began checking our supplies. He had a small, enchanted pack that had survived the chaos, and from it, he produced a waterskin and a few strips of dried, demonic beast-meat. It was tough, smoky, and tasted of despair, but it was food.
