Darkness swallowed everything around him. Mateo reached out for Eloise, but his hand found only emptiness. A piercing cold crept in—more than just temperature; it was a deep, oppressive absence. The warmth, the life—that all seemed to vanish.“Eloise?” His voice sounded muffled, as if he were speaking underwater.No answer.Then, suddenly, the floor beneath him gave way.But he didn’t exactly fall. It was more like reality itself unraveled, ripping him from one place and depositing him somewhere else. The sensation was reversed drowning—being pulled upward through layers of consciousness until he hit something solid, unyielding.He gasped, lungs on fire, vision spinning. He was on his hands and knees on cold tile, the smell hitting him instantly: a sickly mix of antiseptic and decay, the unmistakable stench of a hospital long abandoned.He forced himself to stand, trembling from shock and pain. His head throbbed where it had struck the floor.The surroundings gradually came into foc