Vale found himself—or rather, his very existence—drifting in a sea of nothingness. Dreams, or perhaps the complete absence of them, made sleeping in the Demon Realm feel strange. It was as if his disembodied mind floated in the void, suspended in limbo, waiting for his body to stir awake.
That eerie stillness didn't last long. A wave of freezing cold suddenly coursed through him, followed by a muffled sound and a violent shake that jolted his torso.
His eyes snapped open. Gasping for air as though drowning, he instinctively reached to summon his weapon—until his vision focused on the face hovering inches from his own.
It was Ayla.
She leaned back quickly, startled by his sudden movement.
"W-What's going on?" Vale rasped, his voice thick with grogginess. His thoughts were still shrouded in a fog thicker than the one that lingered around them.
"Nothing," Ayla replied with a faint smile. "We should get moving. Everyone's had enough rest."
