At another part of the ShadowGraves, Lyra's sharp eyes scanned their surroundings with growing frustration as the mist continued to press against them.
"This damn fog has directional distortion properties," she said, her voice filled irritation.
"We've been walking in what should be a straight line for ten minutes, but I'm almost certain we've passed this rock twice."
Isaac shifted his massive shield, the weight now just another burden in this oppressive atmosphere. "So we're lost."
"We're not lost," Lyra sharply corrected. "We're... tactically repositioning until the environmental conditions become more favorable."
"So we're lost," Felicity repeated, her bow held tight with an arrow nocked but not drawn.
Lyra opened her mouth to argue, then closed it. "Ah, fuck it. We're lost. Okay? Happy now?"
The admission hung in the air between them, making their situation feel even more dire.
They had been separated from Yuki and Owen, how or when exactly none of them could say.
