Ethan couldn’t pinpoint exactly when the shift happened. One moment, he was running through the grand, opulent halls of Castle Dimitrescu, the next, he found himself in crumbling corridors littered with broken glass and plaster. The icy chill of carved stone and gilded doors he had grown somewhat accustomed to had given way to rusted scrap heaps and junkyards. Even the campfire flames before him offered little warmth against the oppressive fog that clung to everything, whisking him from one twisted nightmare to the next.

He let out a bitter laugh, tugging his jacket tighter around his body. His eyes drifted from the dim embers of the fire to the thick, rolling fog that crept along the ground, weaving through the trees like it was alive.

“This is just my luck. Of course this has to happen to me.”

As he watched, the mist parted for a moment, the swirling tendrils peeling away to reveal something, or rather, someone. Someone Ethan hadn’t seen before in this strange, nightmarish realm.