Darkness, absolute and complete, surrounded Alexandra. Not the ordinary darkness of night or shadow, but a perfect void—an absence so profound it felt like a physical presence pressing against her skin. There was no sound, no sensation of air or ground beneath her feet. She existed in a state of suspended animation, unable to determine if her eyes were open or closed, if she was standing or falling.
Time lost all meaning in this emptiness. She might have been floating in the void for seconds or centuries—there was no way to tell. The only constant was the weight of the darkness, heavy and oppressive, as if the very absence of everything was crushing her from all sides.
Then, almost imperceptibly, something changed. The darkness began to thin, not receding but becoming less absolute. Alexandra became aware of her own body again—the ache in her muscles, the dried blood on her uniform, the weight of her sword still clutched in her hand.
