Creed found himself lying face-down on what felt like solid ground, his body aching in places he didn't know he had and his head spinning with residual disorientation from the portal transit.
For a long moment, he simply lay there, breathing heavily and trying to convince his inner ear that up and down were once again meaningful concepts.
The ground beneath him felt strange, not quite like earth or stone or any other natural surface he was familiar with, but at least it was solid and stationary and reassuringly real.
When he finally gathered the strength and courage to lift his head and look around, what he saw made his blood run cold with a mixture of awe and terror.
He was in a world that looked like it had been painted with ink and shadow, where everything existed in shades of black and gray and deep purple that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it.
