They hit ground that didn’t move.
That alone felt wrong.
Emily stayed where she fell for a second longer than necessary, palms pressed against rough earth, fingers digging into soil that felt real in a way nothing had for a long time.
Not glass.
Not metal.
Not constructed.
Alive.
Wind passed over her skin—cool, uneven, carrying the faint scent of something dry and distant. It grounded her instantly, pulling her back into her body after the violent disorientation of transit.
She exhaled slowly.
“…Okay,” she muttered. “That’s new.”
The light beneath her skin pulsed once in response.
Quieter now.
But not gone.
Never gone.
Emily pushed herself upright, legs unsteady but holding. The world tilted for half a second before settling into something resembling stability.
They stood on
