One by one, the trapped figures slipped free from the bark. They fell slowly at first, drifting through fractured gravity before hitting the ground or catching themselves with weak bursts of mana.
Ashley was among the first to move.
His fingers twitched. His lungs pulled in a rough breath. He pushed himself up, vision blurred, the battlefield still half-drowned in silence.
"Ashmay…" he muttered, then forced his eyes open wider.
Around him, others were waking the same way—confused, disoriented, pulling themselves out of wooden hollows and broken roots that had once held them like cages.
Above them, something stood in space. Asher
At first glance, it felt wrong to even confirm his presence. If they hadn't been looking directly at him, they might have thought nothing was there at all.
His presence didn't press on the world. It didn't disturb it. It simply existed beyond it.
And yet, the space around him bent slightly, as if reality was trying to adjust and failing to keep up.
