The mountain of raw meat and black rock filled the whole cavern sky above me.
The beach had gone quiet. A few moments ago, the shoreline had been a meat grinder of clashing iron, screaming sea-dragons and shattering stone. Now the only sound was the pitch-black ocean, boiling as it rolled in and breaking against the warm bedrock in slow, heavy crashes.
I stood alone on the slanted stone.
My left collarbone throbbed with every breath, the broken ends grinding together each time my chest rose. My spirit well sat at zero, dry and cracked like an old clay bowl. Deeper in, I could feel the iron doors of the Soul Sanctum hanging warped on their hinges, and the cracks the Overdrive had left running through the cathedral behind them.
I waited for the mountain to move.
