Raziel stared out across the endless white sand of the Dead Zone.
The cold calculation inside his chest analyzed the empty, unrendered wasteland stretching to the horizon.
Lucian picked himself up from the sand.
The noble dusted his dark tunic and looked at the white void surrounding them.
"How do we leave?" Lucian asked.
He relied entirely on his raw combat instincts and his stealth. "There are no doors."
"We build one," Raziel answered.
He turned around and walked back toward his team.
Zorya sat cross-legged on the white ground.
The unchained Inscriptor wiped the red blood from her chin with her sleeve.
The thick veins of liquid silver ink flowing across her hands hummed with steady, stabilized power.
Raziel knelt in front of her.
"Can you find the physical perimeter of this sector?" Raziel asked and pointed at the empty sand. "Can you read the syntax of the quarantine wall from this side?"
Zorya opened her silver eyes.
