The transition was not a movement through space; it was a violent unmaking of the soul. When Lyra's hand slipped from Lucian's in the shattered Cathedral of Mourning, the world didn't just go dark it dissolved into a screaming static of white-hot data.
The "Blood-Covenant" they had just shared the raw, metallic taste of his silver life-force was still a heavy heat on her tongue, but the psychic tether was being stretched across dimensions. It felt like a violin string being pulled until it hummed with the frequency of a dying star, vibrating so hard it threatened to shatter her teeth.
"LUCIAN!" Her voice echoed back to her, distorted by the vacuum of the Void, sounding like a recording played from a drowning machine.
Part 1: The Golden Cage (The Founders' Truth)
Lyra hit a floor made of solid, polished sunlight. The impact didn't break her bones, but it sent a shockwave through her Node that made her vomit violet light.
