The transition was a violent, mind-shredding blur. One moment Sol was cursing the existence of a pocket dimension that didn't have a stable floor, and the next, he was being squeezed through a metaphorical straw of white-hot light. His consciousness frayed at the edges, his new, dense body vibrating so hard he thought his teeth would shake out of his skull.
Then, the world returned with the subtlety of a freight train hitting a wall.
CRASH.
Sol slammed into something hard, but it wasn't stone. It was soft, yielding, and wet. He tumbled, the world spinning in a kaleidoscope of nauseating colors. His stomach did a slow-motion flip, and for a terrifying second, his internal organs felt like they were floating two inches to the left of where they should be.
The first thing he registered wasn't the sight, but the sound.
CLANG. SHREIK. BOOM.
