Consciousness returned slowly, dragging Rey back from darkness with pain that transcended physical sensation.
Every cell in his body screamed.
His Ether pathways felt like charred ruins. The backlash from premature Ethereal Conception activation had ravaged him at fundamental levels that normal healing couldn't address.
But he was alive.
Rey forced his eyes open, expecting to find himself still in the corrupted cathedral where he'd collapsed after killing the Angel.
Instead, he found himself in a throne room that made the cathedral seem insignificant by comparison.
The architecture defied description—walls that existed in multiple states simultaneously, ceiling that somehow contained infinite space within finite dimensions, floor constructed from material that might have been stone or compressed darkness or conceptual wrongness given physical form.
