The cold miasma wind, heavy with the scent of sulfur, roared in Sylvia's ears as her body plummeted freely from the heights of the Primordial Zenith sky. Completely drained of every last drop of mana, her physical senses had gone numb. To her left and right, the figures of Stacia and Alicia floated with half-lidded eyes, the remaining feathers of their wings falling away into golden and silver ash fragments that dissolved into the air.
"Gravity… nine point eight meters per second squared…" Stacia murmured weakly, her lips barely moving while the mind that usually spun as fast as a supercomputer now stuttered like an old engine running out of fuel. "Impact with the bone-ash surface in four seconds… estimated to break eighteen ribs… and… ah, forget it. I'm too tired to calculate the free-fall hydrodynamics."
