No escape shall be granted, for the umbra’s grip tightens, and the stolen souls become eternally entwined in the ominous dance of celestial thievery. “‘A cosmic cataclysm, foretold in the shadows and unleashed at the hands of the Harbinger of Death, the Daughter of Starlight and Shadows.” As I finish reading the words, a sense of dread skitters down my spine. I fold my lower lip in between my teeth, trying to decipher the meaning, but come up empty. It all sounds like some weird foreboding premonition to me.
