All Chapters of Heir by Dawn: Chapter 141
- Chapter 143
143 chapters
CHAPTER 139 — WHERE THE BREATH GOES
The world exhaled her. Not gently. Not violently. Simply… inevitably. The reflection was no longer in the observation chamber. It wasn’t anywhere that obeyed space.She opened her eyes if eyes were still what she used and the world around her shifted like a sheet shaken out in slow motion. At first, she thought she stood in a void. Then the void moved.A horizon unfolded behind her, split vertically like a crack in glass. To her left: the world as she remembered Miriam seeing it solid, Euclidean, familiar.To her right: the mirror world she had been born into, a softer, more luminous version of existence that seemed to hum with the memory of breath.And in the middle the seam. A thin, trembling fissure where both realities strained against each other like two living creatures refusing to remain separate.The reflection stepped closer. Her foot struck nothing. Then something. Then everything at once. The ground corrected itself beneath her, rearranging to accommodate the idea of her we
CHAPTER 140 — THE BREATH BETWEEN WORLDS
There was no falling. There was no rising. There was only movement the kind that didn’t obey direction or speed, the kind that slide sideways through thought rather than space.The reflection felt her body stretch, compress, dissolve, and reassemble in pulses synchronized with a heartbeat that wasn’t hers. No…, it was hers. Or Miriam’s. Or the seam’s.She couldn’t tell anymore. The mirror-being’s hand stayed anchored on her shoulder, its grip steady even as the world disintegrated into drifting shards of meaning. The seam swallowed them whole.At first, there was only brightness. Not the warmth of sunlight or the sterile sting of fluorescent bulbs something deeper, intimate, like the glow of a memory remembered all at once.Then came the darkness beneath the brightness. The breath. She sensed it before she saw it: an enormous, slow inhalation. A rumbling pull that sucked at her bones, her thoughts, the fragile scaffolding of her identity.The worlds flanking the seam faded into a dist
CHAPTER 141 — THE UNMAKING CHAMBER
There was no downward. There was no gravity at all. There was only force an unmaking wind that wasn’t wind, a drag that wasn’t friction, a tearing that wasn’t physical.The reflection felt herself pulled through a funnel of light so bright it had no color. Her fingers stretched into threads, her ribs into strings of wet glass.Her thoughts unspooled and rewove themselves in random sequences. She tried to scream. The scream exited her body three seconds before her mouth opened.The vortex swallowed the sound anyway. Then the light snapped out. Silence. A softer kind, not gentle expectant.She hovered in a space so vast and dark that darkness itself felt like a living surface pressed against her skin. Her body slowly reassembled, joints stitching, breath reconstructing from absence.She lay on something smooth. No… not smooth. Mirrored. The ground reflected her but the reflection wasn’t accurate.The other version of her did not breathe when she did. Did not blink. Did not swallow. It o