Raymond's POV
The second that cursed artifact blew apart, just shattering into a million glittering pieces that spun through the air like dangerous snow, my brain snapped back into itself. Not gently. Not like waking from a nap.
It felt like someone had grabbed my soul and hurled it through a brick wall straight back into the waking world.
Dear blessed Moon Goddess.
What the hell had I turned into?
I was standing in the dungeons. The actual dungeons. The air felt thick and rotten. Blood, sweat, mildew all mixed together in a cocktail that made me want to puke.
Something was in my hand. I looked down to see that I was gripping a sliver blade, crusted with dried blood. The knife stuck to my palm. I was squeezing it so hard my knuckles had gone bone-white.
Timothy hung in front of me,
