A deafening crack echoed through the darkness as Nate slammed his hand against the cold, unyielding ground.
Pain exploded through his fingers, but he didn't care. He gritted his teeth, his breathing ragged, his entire body trembling from the excruciating agony still pulsing beneath his skin. His insides burned as if they had been seared raw by the invading shadows, his limbs heavy, his vision flickering—but he refused to stop.
His mind screamed at him, warning him that he was at his limit. But limits meant nothing now.
With a furious snarl, he forced himself to stand, every movement a battle against the crushing force weighing him down. He staggered forward, one agonizing step at a time, his legs barely responding, his body screaming in protest.
"Move, dammit."
He clenched his jaw, burning every last ounce of his mental energy, pushing his body beyond its limits. Every step felt like trudging through quicksand, but he refused to stop.
And then—
