"AH—!"
Eli's scream ripped from his throat before he could stop it, the sound instantly devoured by the roar of rushing wind and crumbling stone.
"Hold on tightly!" Caelen's voice cut through the chaos—deep, steady, unshaken.
Eli's arms locked around him instinctively, knuckles whitening. The fall blurred everything—the world reduced to whipping darkness and flashes of tumbling debris—but even through the chaos, he caught the unmistakable gleam in Caelen's eyes. Gold. Bright, molten gold.
'Is he…?' Eli's breath hitched. 'He's… preparing for impact.'
Shards of marble, broken pews, and chunks of the shattered floor plunged alongside them, smashing against the walls in deafening bursts.
Caelen shifted mid-air, his body a barrier between Eli and the deadly rain. Each piece of rubble that should have caved Eli's skull slammed harmlessly against Caelen's back with dull, punishing thuds.
