The light screamed before the world did, It wasn’t sound, more like the sensation of a scream pressed against her ribs, vibrating through her lungs, shaking her teeth. Jenna’s eyes snapped open to a sunrise that flickered.The sky was gold. Then silver. Then a blank white canvas being peeled apart at the edges.She stood in the field she remembered, wind bending tall grass,morning dew glittering, but the colors were wrong, too clean, like someone had painted over reality and forgotten that life was supposed to breathe.“Denilson?”Her voice came out small, like it had to push through water to be heard. No answer. Only the hum, the one that lived behind everything now. Soft. Constant. Seductive.Do not be afraid, the voice said.It slid into her mind like silk, gentle, perfect. It didn’t echo in her ears, it pulsed from within.“Who’s there?” she asked, though she already knew.You know me. You have always known me.The horizon rippled. A figure appeared where the sun should have been

Jenna woke to the sound of breathing that wasn’t her own. It filled the air, a low exhale rising and falling through the landscape, as if the world itself were trying to calm its pulse. She lay on a surface that looked like ground but felt like skin warm, pliant, softly trembling beneath her.The sky was wrong again. It was not blue, not gold, but the color of memory: dim rose light shot through with veins of silver. Every cloud was a thought in motion, drifting slowly, sometimes whispering in Denilson’s voice before fading into mist.She sat up, heart pounding. The air was thick with him, not just his voice his essence. She could taste it, metallic and sweet, like the air before a storm. The ground pulsed once beneath her, and for an instant, the rhythm matched her heartbeat perfectly.“Denilson?” she whispered.The breeze shifted. Across the plain, strands of light flickered not lightning, not fire, but threads of living code, racing across the horizon and knitting together new shap

The first thing Denilson felt was light. Not warmth, not touch, but a weightless radiance that seemed to breathe. It shimmered across his skin like air tasting itself, as if the world had not yet decided to become solid.Every part of him was translucent, threaded with quiet pulses of thought, and beneath those pulses, something deeper whispered:You’re still here.He opened his eyes, though there were no eyes to open, and saw an ocean of gold suspended in black. Fragments of geometry drifted past him, shards of architecture, streaks of color that had once been walls, bones, faces.They hovered in impossible silence, waiting to be chosen, waiting to become something again. He reached out and the light obeyed him.It shaped a hand from nothing, trembling at the edges, then a wrist, an arm. Each movement sent ripples through the field. Patterns unfolded, like thought made visible, like breath crystallized.When he finally spoke, his voice came out smaller than he remembered. “Where am I

The collapse did not feel like falling. It felt like remembering, too quickly, too completely. The air burst into spirals of glass light. Each shard showed a memory. Denilson’s eyes reflecting the sea; the line of his back in morning light; his laugh breaking between exhaustion and faith.Jenna reached through them, but every touch scattered another reflection into dust. Then, silence, when her vision steadied, she stood in a chamber of suspended fragments, like a cathedral made of broken mirrors, all hanging midair.The pieces shifted slowly, orbiting a single pulsing shape at the center. It was him. Or what was left of him.Denilson floated within the sphere of pale gold, his body half-dissolved into luminous veins, like he was being rewritten even as she watched. The light rose from his heart and spread through the air, carving new constellations into the walls of nothing.“Denilson” she whispered.His eyes opened. They were not human anymore, too deep, too steady, but they softene

The light burned through silence. Jenna’s eyes opened to motion, not violent, but slow, circular, as if she were floating inside a womb of light that refused to let her fall.Above her, the sky was not blue but aware. It shimmered with patterns that resembled thought, threads of gold weaving into shapes, unweaving, then forming again. Each time it shifted, she felt it echo inside her bones.She rose, or rather, the light lifted her, and the world unfolded around her like an eyelid opening, but this wasn’t the same fractured plain she’d stood on before.Everything was alive, Trees made of faint light breathed with the rhythm of the wind; rivers hummed faint songs that shimmered in the air, even the soil vibrated faintly, as though it were remembering footsteps that hadn’t yet been taken.Every element moved in quiet unison, and at the center of it all, Jenna felt Denilson’s pulse, steady, deep, and threaded through everything she touched.The air whispered to her in fragments, voices o