Alice emerges from the darkness, as though awakening from a violent dream.
Her eyes snap open, and suddenly, she is well beneath the waves of a lake. Frantic, she claws, and kicks her way towards the flickering light of the watery surface. Her lungs threaten to explode from lack of oxygen when she finally breeches the surface with a violent gasp of air.
To her immense relief, the shoreline is within reach. Exhausted by her struggle, Alice paddles wearily towards the broken pier on Diver's Isle.
Coughing, sputtering for air, Alice soon clambers onto solid ground. Her legs wobble and shake, as knees scratch against moss covered wood planks. While her fingers struggle to grip at the rotted railing, in the hopes it is strong enough to support her weight.
Any attempts to gain enough stability to stand, is promptly met with failure. Legs, rubbery from exertion, soon give way to the weight of her otherwise, petite, body. Slipping on the rotting wood, Alice crumples to the ground. Shivering, she wraps her arms around her waist, a desperate attempt to keep warm.
Taking in her surroundings Alice begins to process all that has just happened. Memories of the dark presence taunting her, the weight of the clicker in her hands, the warmth of Alan's hands on her wrists pulling her far and away from…
'Alan? Alan? Alan!'
Alice's voice is desperate, even shrill, to her own ears. A stark contrast, to the otherwise peaceful sounds of her surroundings; water lapping the shoreline, and chirping of birds.
No one answers her call. Truthfully, she knows better than to expect any reply.
Wherever Alan may be, Alice can only hope that he is safe.
Despite her victory over the dark presence; the war is far from over.