Savannah
The first wave hit like reality bleeding out through a wound—darkness that didn't just block light but devoured the very concept of illumination, leaving behind a wrongness that made my shadow aspect recoil in primal terror. Through the packhouse windows, I watched as the horizon writhed with approaching shapes that shouldn't exist, mounted figures whose steeds defied physics and whose hunting cries turned oxygen into something that burned my lungs with the stench of rendered flesh.
"Battalion strength," Iowyn announced with crystalline precision, frost patterns erupting across his skin like living tattoos as his power responded to the threat. "Approximately two hundred mounted entities. Estimated arrival: ninety seconds."
Even from this distance, I could see the wrongness of t
