Namor's eyes locked onto that which his mind was already preoccupied: the castle. Nothing about it was inviting—not the black sky into which it was set; not the red light flickering in only one very high window; not its off-kilter contours which, the longer Namor stared into their darkness the less certain he was of their definite shape. No, the castle did not invite—it repelled any reasoning person who saw it. But it was, Namor knew, the only way back home to Atlantis.
Without removing his gaze from the castle—unable, rather, to turn a blind eye to that horror—he spoke, softly but commandingly. "We need to start climbing," he said.
There was no reply. He turned stiffly toward the others. Doctor Strange did not act as though he heard Namor at all, irritating the latter. His focus was on the Hulk, who in turn gave Barbara, in his arms, his full attention. Namor had not heard a sound before. Now that he was facing the Hulk, however, he saw the Hulk's lips moving, and could distinguish, if not the words, then a mumble of something repetitive, mournful, and parental. Strange, meanwhile, heard the words, which was why he could not move. They were not addressed to him—they were for Barbara alone.
"Nothing. No, nothing. He can do nothing. Nothing for you. Nothing to help. Nothing—" he said.
Even through the shock and helplessness and sadness, Strange felt the heat of Namor hard stare, which he turned to only momentarily, leaving it for any reason, and finding, just for the fact that it was the only landmark, the castle. Where its appearance sent a chill through Namor's body, its twisted ominous façade sobered Strange, instead, to the truth of Namor last, unheard interjection—the castle was their only way home, and they had a steep, arduous, nearly impassible climb before them.
He let out a slow breath. He was still. Slowly an aura grew from his hand, which he raised only when its light was its brightest, and aimed it at Barbara's head.
There, in the midst of shadow, was the monolith. There the desert. But where the intermittent flash of headlight? Or the looming mountains? Beyond where he stood, Strange could not see, only sense, an inhuman, unearthly, sickening nothingness. There was a movement. A shadow twitched. Strange moved to follow it to where it had disappeared behind the rock. But there was nothing there. Even the rock, seen well enough before, grew darker. He looked to the sky. The moon dimmed as he watched. The stars, now only dotting the black sky inconstantly, winked out, now here now there.
Strange looked to the utter lack that was once a landscape. "Barbara," he called, desperately. There was nothing there. There was no one to reply. All was silent. All was black.