Jon didn’t move.
He didn’t blink.
Because if he did—
It might disappear again.
The window wasn’t showing San Francisco anymore.
It wasn’t showing anything familiar.
The city lights were gone.
The balcony was gone.
Replaced by something vast.
Cold.
Real.
The sky churned with storm clouds that moved too fast, too violently—like the air itself was alive.
And standing in it—
Was him.
Not close.
Not reaching.
Just… there.
A figure carved out of shadow and weight.
Tall.
Still.
Unmoving in a way that didn’t feel natural.
The blindfold wrapped across his eyes pulsed with something alive—runes shifting through violet, midnight blue…
And something darker.
Something Jon couldn’t name.
His grip tightened around the curved blade in his hand.
Not threatening.
Not aggressive.
Just…
Ready.
Behind him, rising from jagged rock and mist—
A fortress.
Massive.
Ancient.
Like it had been waiting longer than anything Jon had ever known.
This wasn’t imagination.
This wasn’t stress.
This wasn’t something he could explain away.
Because it didn’t feel distant.
It didn’t feel separate.
It felt like he was looking at something that already knew him.
Jon swallowed hard.
Because for the first time—
He wasn’t just seeing something impossible.
He was being seen back.
Continue the journey:
👉 Stay with Jon as the line between worlds disappears
👉 Step deeper into Evermoor
Continue Jon’s Story
If this stayed with you…
it doesn’t end here.
This is where the story begins:
Or continue straight into the story:
Or take your time.
Explore more of the ideas first:
Curious about the rest of Kent Wayne’s worlds?
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