Lumian's eyes were narrowed, his body tensing as he sensed the pores on his skin open. An overwhelming premonition of danger washed over him.
In the dream ruins, he'd had no shortage of similar experiences. Instantly, he halted and tumbled to the side, like a boneless sack of flesh.
A whistling wind filled his ears as a razor-sharp axe grazed his body, slicing through the air.
Lumian hit the ground with a thud, attempting to roll to his feet. But pale-white and pitch-black, eerie arms extended from the surrounding shadows, grabbing his clothes and coiling around his body.
The cold sensation and stiffness seeped into Lumian's flesh. Twisting wildly, trying to escape the restraints with his powerful agility, he shouted, "Help…"
Two malicious, bumpy palms smothered his mouth, stifling his voice abruptly, leaving only a whimper.
Simultaneously, Lumian glimpsed an elongated humanoid shadow on the wall, raising the axe at him.
Clang!