.... Protocol .... Devour%!@!... Seed—Too Slow....
"M541X...."
A terrifyingly loud, broken sound struck Max in his dream, like a bucket of ice-cold water being poured over lava. It jolted him awake, but not in reality. His eyes opened in panic and confusion, only to see himself floating in the air, his body naked and half-covered in black mist.
The mist moved slowly around his skin, almost like it was alive, but Max could not feel any cold or warmth from it. Only pressure. A strange, heavy pressure, as if something was trying to hold him in place while the broken sound kept echoing inside his skull. It did not feel like mana, nor did it feel like the void he had grown used to. This was something different, something older, rougher, almost unfinished, as if he had been dipped into a darkness that was still deciding what shape it wanted to take.
"M541X...."
