[???]
Alyssia's breath trembled as she stood frozen in place.
The world around her was wrong. Utterly, horrifyingly wrong.
The air was thick with the scent of iron, a metallic stench that burned in her nostrils. The dim, hellish glow of an invisible source reflected off the endless ocean of blood beneath her feet, rippling outward in slow waves. The deep red liquid was warm—too warm, like fresh spillage from something still alive.
She dared not move at first. Every breath she took was shallow, like a fragile thing trying not to shatter in the face of the impossible. But then—drip.
A soft sound. A gentle, wet impact on her shoulder.
Alyssia gasped and snapped her head up.
That was her first mistake.
