And inside Vhalrath's body, Ethan's own problem still hadn't been solved.
The one blocking his path… was himself.
A gray-black shadow stood in front of him.
It had Ethan's exact build and outline, down to the smallest proportions—but there was no face. Its "skin" was nothing but dark, flowing patterns, like ink drifting under glass.
When Ethan first stepped into this space made entirely of doors, a beam of light had shone down from above.
That light swept over his body—and threw his shadow onto the ground.
The next instant, the shadow that had been lying flat on the floor stood up.
It didn't give Ethan even a heartbeat to study it. Both hands shot out and clamped around his throat. Gray-black fingers tightened without mercy, crushing his windpipe. Ethan's breathing was cut off almost immediately.
His feet lifted off the ground, and under the shadow's pressure his body started to go limp, strength draining fast.
