We went way back. He wasn’t mine—he was everyone’s dog, the town’s unofficial mascot. Even the pound knew better than to mess with him.

“Tell you what,” I ruffled his ears, “stay here, and when I get back, I’ll dig up some treats from the car.”

His mouth started to water at the word.

I held out a hand. “Deal?”

He just stared, wide-eyed. I grabbed his paw and shook it. “Deal.”

Jack, what in Satan’s asscrack—it’s a dog. We need to move.

I gave Sarge a final pat, but my thoughts were fogging over, slow and heavy like molasses. “You know, Frank,” I slurred, “if you don’t have anything to say... don’t say it.” The words tumbled out wrong, my tongue thick in my mouth. “That’s what my mother always said...”

Frank hissed in irritation, but I was too far gone to care. The ground shifted beneath me, tilting in ways it shouldn’t. I shook my head, trying to pull the pieces together, but it was like grasping smoke. Time was slipping. Better get this over with.

Hold on, Jack, Frank's voice urged, wrapping himself tighter around me, his presence a buffer against the rift’s disorienting effects.

The rift was a swirling vortex, a tear in reality that defied all logic. I steeled myself and stepped through, Frank’s comforting weight grounding me as the world shifted and twisted around us.

Beyond the rift, the landscape twisted and churned in a chaotic dance of color and form, never settling into anything recognizable. The sky, a sickly green streaked with inky black, gaped like an ancient, hungry maw. Beneath my feet, the ground writhed and squirmed as if alive, and trees with gnarled branches clawed at the sky, their leaves glowing with an eerie bioluminescence.

The air, thick as molasses, carried the stench of decay mixed with a sickly sweet rot, underpinned by a familiar sulfurous reek. Every step was a struggle, as if wading through knee-high mud, the oppressive atmosphere pressing down, trying to crush my spirit. The ground, cracked and red like a desert scorched by eternal flames, shifted beneath me. Each breath felt like inhaling shards of glass. The uneven terrain was littered with jagged rocks.

This was a bad idea.

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Looking back, the rift into my world was nearly out of sight.

Get it together, Jack. You're losing it, Frank snapped in my head, but his voice felt distant, like it was coming from underwater.

“I’m fine... I just...” I muttered to no one, but my voice sounded strange, muffled. I blinked hard, trying to clear the haze, but the dizziness only got worse. My legs wobbled. Everything felt... woozy.

Stay focused, Frank's voice cut through the chaos. We’re here for a reason. Remember that.

I nodded, taking a deep breath, and pressed on. The Otherworld twisted perceptions, warping reality until the path ahead was a haze. There was no turning back now.

We need to find Nightstone, I thought, feeling my control slipping as the hunger grew more insistent. I was losing it.

We trekked through the desolate wasteland, every step a battle against the oppressive heat and my own weakening body. Shadows flitted at the edge of my vision, monstrous shapes watching from a distance, their eyes gleaming with malevolent curiosity.

It’s quiet here, Frank observed. Too quiet.

I nodded, my mind slipping into memories of the past. It had been years since I’d crossed a rift. Back in the war, we were crazy enough to use them for transportation, despite the dangers. But we had protective suits then and artifacts to ward off the worst effects. Space worked differently here. One rift could lead to another across the world, or just a block away.

Lost a lot of good men in the rift, I remembered, a pang of guilt twisting in my chest.

The only reason to venture into this hellish place now was to mine or treasure hunt. I pushed forward; the landscape sapped my energy and willpower. It felt like walking through a red desert, each step draining my life force. The hunger grew, a feral beast gnawing at my insides. Exhaustion wrapped around me like a heavy blanket, pulling me down.

You have to focus, Jack. Don’t stop walking, Frank's voice was a distant murmur. Death in the rift, when not at the hands of beasts, can come without notice or fanfare, simply sucking the remaining life from you. It’s dying in ice, Jack.

The world spun slowly, a dream I was slipping out of, and for a second, I wasn’t sure if I was standing or falling. I looked down.

Still standing. That's good.

Why did I come here?

What am I doing?

This feels like a terrible place to die. The world spun as my mind teetered on the edge of delirium.

We are almost there, Jack. Stay with me. I can sense a deposit of Nightstone just over that ridge.

I tried to keep my feet beneath me. But it was too much. The world swirled, and dry earth greeted me with a warm embrace.

Get up, Jack. If you don’t get up, you’ll die.