The question went nowhere. The fog swallowed it the same way it swallowed everything else.
Revan stood in the rain with a dead monster at his feet and no idea which direction led out of this white hell.
Revan pressed his thumb and forefinger against his chin, squeezing until the bone ached.
His eyes narrowed at the fog. The gears in his skull were grinding again.
'During the fight, I could still hear and sense living creatures from a distance. In other words, this fog and rain don't have any strong, specific mechanics to distort my senses.'
Revan sighed.
'I remember it perfectly. I only dashed a few steps away. There is no way in hell I wouldn't be able to hear my group fighting. Therefore, the only logical explanation right now... is that I've triggered the Dead Zone's own mechanics.'
There were places in this world where the environment itself had a will.
A mechanism. A natural system that formed over centuries the way rivers carved canyons or wind shaped stone.
