“We call ourselves The Sisters of Winter,” Nyx replies “and this place is called Helios. We don’t know who built it, we don’t know how we got here, and just like you, we can’t remember anything from our lives before.”


“5 seconds!” Dex screams above the din, his voice clear and strong against the chaos of the scene around me. Instinctively, I reach behind my head and draw the crude sword out of its scabbard with a clumsy, halting motion. I grip the hilt of the sword tight and will my hand not to shake. I fail miserably.


The scream is inhuman. It’s impossibly loud, expanding violently into the subsonic and ultrasonic all at once. It splits through the winter air like lightning through a black sky, chasing every other sound back into the darkness beyond the blood red lights.

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