The next day, Sylvia woke up first as usual. The soft morning sunlight slipped through the gaps in the curtains of the Silver Moon Inn, gently caressing her porcelain-pale face. The golden rays seemed reluctant to disturb her, only enough to touch her tightly closed eyelids. Slowly, Sylvia opened her dark red eyes. The thin vertical pupils adjusted to the light without the slightest squint, a habit from the demonic blood flowing through her body.
Her body felt refreshed and light after a long, deep sleep, something she rarely experienced after six straight hours of relentless slaughter inside the dimensional rift. Even so, faint shadows of oceans of monsters, spraying blood, and her steady heartbeat while mapping the complex labyrinth still lingered in the corner of her mind. Not trauma, but neatly organized mental notes, ready to be used whenever needed.
