IV | Threshold
They found themselves in a blackness such as Shekalane had never known, a blackness which would have been total if not for a pair or red indicator lights—one directly beside them and one a couple hundred feet away—as well as an illuminated sign, which read, simply, ‘Styx Flumen | Zone 49.’ But there was something else too, a horrible smell, and it was not just because of the dankness, nor the curious phenomenon in which the loss of one sense will accentuate another. No, this was the smell of waste, as if they had entered into a great sewer canal. As if they had penetrated the flesh of the world itself and entered into the very bowels of Ursathrax.
“Dravidian—what is this place?”
She heard his clothes rustle as they drifted, as though he were distracted with something. “Th
