It'd been that easy. All it'd taken was a touch. The notion of that terrified him, regardless of how many years it had taken for the Shadow King's power to reach out from Oliver's own to achieve it. But maybe a few was all it needed when the host didn't put up much of a fight... a thought that didn't help. The notion of everyone being that vulnerable certainly didn't help.
But they were back now, they had a chance to figure all this out and fix it, because everything was broken in that hellish place. Everything and everyone.
Here? Here the air was clear, it wasn't filled with the Shadow King's ever-seeking gaze. Here he could breath and realize exactly how exhausted he was, exactly how much his head was pounding. David's limbs felt weak, his legs unsteady, vertigo making the world spin right up until he had the focus of Syd's hand touching his face. His eyes, very much bright and alive, met her own wide, fear-filled ones.
"I'm here," he answered intently, gently resting his own hand over hers -- to assure without causing too much discomfort. David remembered how he'd been holding her back, physically stopping her from charging ahead at Farouk and getting herself killed. "And I'm not going anywhere." His eyes were all there, had every bit of life his body was capable of churning out. All they were was... tired. "Only place I'm going is bed," he admitted. "Think I'm-- think I'm gonna pass out any minute now."
Which had him offering the older Cary's journal to Syd. "Better get this to Cary before though, give him as much time to decipher it as possible."