Lizzie's mental space was nothing like she'd expected.
No greenhouse, no hospital, no flowing river of light. Just darkness. Empty, vast, cold. And her voice echoed when she screamed.
"FUUUUUCKKK YOUUUU!"
The Ogre King charged through the void like a friggin zord. Fifteen feet of green flesh covered in tribal tattoos, tusks like daggers jutting from his jaw, and a crown of bones rattling on his massive head.
He wore a tattered cape that billowed behind him, and in his hands was a club the size of a small tree which he swung so hard, the ground cracked upon impact.
Lizzie ran, her legs pumping, pigtails flying behind her. "Okay okay this feels bad! Like, real bad!"
The Ogre King swung again, and Lizzie dove sideways. The club whistled past her head close enough that she felt the wind displacement. She rolled, came up running, and threw up a healing pod without looking back.
