Lincoln’s POV:
There is no sky here.
There's only fire.
And yet it's not hot—not the sort of heat that might burn your flesh or make your eyes blind. It's alive. The air whispers like a forge, molten light flowing through veins of blackened stone.
I don't know how long I've been falling. The last thing I remember is the Titan's hand pressing against my chest, its voice grumbling through my bones. Then the light swallowed me whole.
And when I landed, I didn't feel an impact, but with a soft weightlessness, as if gravity itself has forgotten what to do with me.
The ground beneath my feet glows with golden sigils, and every breath I take shivers with power. I can feel the Chrono-Forge within my chest pulsing, answering.
“Where… am I? ” My voice sounds wrong. Deeper. Rougher. It echoes
