Ankyra Sound it's the moments we achieve

he'd seen those eyes before. a thousand times in dreams, hanging like gibbous lanterns. more hungering than kind -- more cold than the polar surface of the moon.

astera? miette. he croaked out one last gasp, sensing rather than seeing the closing of the cave around him.

where were they? where was he?

he pressed against a column of flowstone, sinking to the cold floor. the last thing he saw was a figure step from the darkening cave walls, its face illuminated by two molten discs of yellow.