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It was a sunny afternoon in a bustling city. Right at the center of a wide crosswalk between high-rise buildings, a man suddenly stopped and glanced around. Pedestrians brushed past him, not sparing him so much as a glance. Everyone was caught up in the rhythm of their own lives, hurrying along with familiar urgency.
But all of that was about to end.
The man grinned.
“Is that the place...?”
His lips curved in a faint smile as his gaze fixed on something in the distance. In contrast to the smile playing on his lips, there was no trace of humanity in his eyes. They were inorganic, transparent as glass, and empty. They locked onto the black pyramid rising between the skyscrapers, and in those empty eyes, emotion slowly began to stir. It was fervor, the zeal of a fanatic—the kind of pure, devout madness found only in the most devoted followers of the Outer Gods.
“A foul mana. One I know all too well.”
He sensed an all-too-familiar scent flowing from the dark pyramid. Beneath it, where black shadows pooled thick as ink, a smell he’d known from the outer universes wafted toward him.
“Who knew a passageway...
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