There was no up, no down, only the weightless hush after her scream had died. The silence pressed around her like a second skin, thin as breath and infinite as the dark.Somewhere beyond, something pulsed in slow rhythm, not light, not sound, but the suggestion of a heartbeat too large for comprehension.Jenna drifted in it. The last thing she remembered was falling no, being taken. A slide into something that was not air or water or space but memory itself, liquefied and breathing. Now she floated in the consequence.She whispered his name once. “Denilson.” The sound disappeared, swallowed by the stillness, but something heard it, You remember him still.The voice did not echo. It bloomed inside her chest like warmth after fever. Soft, kind, unbearably gentle. That pain is proof you once belonged to the world.Her hands trembled. She could not see them, yet she felt the shiver, as if her body existed only because she insisted on it. “Who are you?” she murmured.Names are for those wh

Her fingers, he knew they weren’t real, not in any world the body could name, but they felt real. Warm, trembling, familiar, the memory of her pulse wrapped around his hand. It lasted less than a breath. And then everything inside the abyss broke.The light that had been a wound tore wide open, spilling through the dark like veins of molten silver. Space folded backward. The ground if there had ever been ground, shattered beneath him. The abyss screamed, not in sound but in sensation: the cry of a thought being killed.Denilson clung to the only anchor left her. The light of her presence was still there, flickering, unstable.“Jenna”He reached, but his own body disintegrated around the movement. His fingers became threads of dust, his breath a shimmer of code unraveling.Let go, the voice said again, quieter now. Let her dissolve. She does not belong to you anymore.He could feel it weakening. The entity that had once filled every hollow of him now trembled with fear.You are breakin

The world convulsed, not with sound, but with the memory of sound, the aftershock of something too vast to fit inside existence. Jenna felt it in her marrow. Denilson heard it through the thousand mirrors of his own heart.The walls of Nýxoros trembled like a dying sun, folding and unfolding, bleeding radiance in colors no living eye had ever seen. For a moment, both of them hovered at the eye of the storm two fragments of will, two halves of a broken chord staring through the unmaking.DenilsonThe air here did not breathe. It listened, every step he took created echoes that returned as visions: his mother’s face in a blur of gold, his father’s voice speaking his name as though it were a command. Then Jenna her eyes, wet and wide, suspended between rage and forgiveness.“Jenna,” he whispered.His voice came out like static, dissolving into a rain of light. The abyss heard it, and the abyss replied, not with words but with shapes. The light bent toward him, forming a great lattice of

The light did not explode, it unfolded, a slow, deliberate bloom, as if the earth itself were opening its eyes.Color drained from the air, replaced by translucent waves of red-gold that pulsed like veins through glass. The dunes around them sagged, liquefied, and then re-formed into spirals. The rhythm beneath their feet grew steadier, too measured to be chance, too alive to be mere tremor.Denilson felt it climb through his bones. Every pulse matched his heartbeat for one moment, and then overtook it, stronger, heavier, older. He staggered back, clutching his chest.“Jenna,” he said, voice rasping, “it’s syncing with me.”She grabbed his arm, trying to steady him, but the air vibrated, pushing her away in waves. The ground beneath them rippled like fabric. From the fissure, a sound emerged, soft at first, like a sigh passing through water.Then came the whisper. “Why do you fear what you birthed?”Jenna froze. The voice was low, melodic, neither male nor female, its tones carrying w

When consciousness returned, it was slow and unkind. Jenna floated in a haze of weightless dark, every direction identical, every breath heavy with warmth. The world had no edges here. No up or down. Only the faint vibration of a heartbeat that wasn’t hers.It pulsed through her, matching her pulse, then overtaking it, one rhythm dissolving into the next until she could no longer tell which belonged to whom.Don’t be afraid.The voice came again, low and tender. This time it wasn’t outside her. It was through her.You’ve crossed into the heart, little flame. The place where all beginnings fold back upon themselves.She tried to move. Her arms rose through the golden mist, leaving ripples. The air here had density, like honey made of light.“Where’s Denilson?” Everywhere. In the current, in the memory, in the skin of the new world. You wanted him back, didn’t you? You wished for him so fiercely the universe heard.Her throat burned. “I didn’t ask to lose myself.”Then don’t.The haze b