You dive in. You feel numb.

The darkness is all consuming. Its weight is infinite.

Until it is not.

Sinking deeper and deeper into the dark, slivers of light begin to appear. Moment by moment, the ocean clears and is replaced with solid land under foot. When you glance upward, to the sky that you have just sunk through, you find the sky is a dark storm of crows. They weave and swim through the air, barking and rasping at one another. Every feather, every eye, every beak is so black that they appear to absorb what little light spills from the faint, waxy moon hanging sickly and weak in the sky.

To the north, there is a ramshackle hut.