Lincoln's POV:
There was no thunder effect as I looked at the Pale Verge, not just like in the movies or novels and there's no light.
Scars and marks are visible, it was silent and with the weight that said something bad had happened at this place a long time ago.
The change started at dawn.
Council transport sigils lit up around the outer ring of Duskbane, creating a steady passage through wards and constellation anchors. I was at the center of the formation, the Chrono-Forge resting tip-down on the stone floor, its runes humming in rhythm with the alignment of time around me.
This wasn’t teleportation.
As the Pale Verge didn't like being entered or letting anyone in as easily as that. It preferred to be convinced.
Ayaana stood very close, her vines wrapped around my wrist and arm
