Chapter 49 - Waking in the Fall

They fell. For the first few meters there was no up, no down— only spin and blur and stomach-shearing weightlessness. The psychic residue still clung to their skulls like static, smearing Damian's shouts into echoes, turning the walls into streaks of blue and red. It felt like they were still dreaming. Still drugged. Still trapped in the Mirage's afterglow. Caleb drifted nearest the center of the tumbling group, which was the only reason he had fewer wounds—Damian's fire and Marcus's bulk had shielded him from most of the feeders. Ethan spun with one arm limp. Marcus clutched Neol with both arms, but his head lolled from the delayed synaptic response. Neol's fingers brushed the air as they fell, still curled in that peaceful, awful smile. Damian was the only one fully awake. He twisted into position, bracing himself in the fall, controlling the chaos with muscle memory alone. Ten meters down— the first flicker. The psychic static in their skulls thinned. Twenty meters— edges sharpened; colors corrected; the smear of hallucination peeled away like old film. Marcus gasped. Ethan blinked hard. Caleb sucked in a sharp breath as his mind snapped back into place— —and they were still falling. Still bleeding. Still half-eaten. But no longer dreaming