At first it was so faint that he almost dismissed it as his own perception trying to invent shape inside the void.
A thin red line appeared in the distance.
It drifted lazily through the darkness. It looked like a ribbon caught in water, moving with a smooth, almost beautiful rhythm.
It had no eyes, no mouth, no claws, no visible body beyond that delicate red strand.
Just a ribbon.
Nothing about it should be frightening.
But it was.
The harmlessness was too deliberate.
It drifted as if unaware of him, as if it were merely passing by, as if it had no intent at all.
But Ronan had watched enough predators in action.
Not the ones in nature, but the ones who walked amongst humans. A predator did not always bare its teeth. Sometimes it became small. Sometimes it convinced prey that danger had not arrived yet, and perhaps never would.
He knew those rules very intimately, which was why he didn't trust the entity in front of him.
