Page 200 of A Reign of Chromes & Shadows

The chamber melted away, reforming into a cavern of darkness.

Water dripped steadily from above; each drop echoing like a heartbeat in the void.

Jagged shapes flickered at the edges of vision, shifting in the shadows.

Then — a pulse of colour.

An aura of prismatic light hummed in and out of existence, each pulse sending violent shadow-veins surging across the cavern floor. They writhed like serpents, converging toward the only source of illumination.

The light beckoned; a shimmering spectrum that grew brighter, deeper, more intense.

Then it revealed itself.

An iridescent Aetherchrome formation.

Magnificent.

Ancient.

Alive.

Its veins glowed with magical currents, casting prismatic reflections across the cavern walls.

The tendrils surged.

They multiplied, swarming, engulfing the formation in a frenzy of shadow. The shimmering veins dimmed, smothered beneath the encroaching blackness. The radiant structure disappeared; swallowed whole.

From the void, a newborn’s cry pierced the darkness.

Prismatic light shuddered violently, trapped within thorned vines.

Then—silence.

A mummified infant face flashed before him, hollow and horrifying.

“Help me!”

Rain gasped.

He jolted awake, dragging in a desperate breath as he tore himself from the vision. His heart hammered against his ribs, frantic and painful. Sweat clung to his skin, chilling him despite the heat of the room.

It was just a dream, he told himself.

But he knew better.

He had seen the shadowing vines before; countless times. As a child, they had meant nothing. Now, he understood too much.

He ran trembling hands over his clammy brow, pushing his fingers through his hair as he forced himself to breathe.

In.

Out.

Stay present.

But the images clung to him; the baby’s eyes, the voice of thousands, the Aetherchrome consumed by darkness.

Skylar.