When I opened my eyes, I didn't find myself back in the familiar warmth of my room, nor was I greeted by the faces of Vina or Roda. No—what awaited me was something far stranger, far darker.
All around me was silence and shadow. I floated—or perhaps drifted—within an endless sea of grey. The only thing that broke the monotony of the void was a faint glimmer of light glowing in the distance. Drawn to it like a moth, I focused on it, and as the light grew sharper, I realized it wasn't just a light. It was a window. No, a projection. A fragile shimmer showing two familiar perspectives—Annabelle's and Samara's.
Even here, wherever 'here' was, our bond hadn't severed. The contract between us still lingered, thin but unbroken. Until their resurrection was complete, we were still tied together. And through that fragile link, I could feel them.
Feel them coming back.
