The transit pocket began to collapse.
Not all at once.
But steadily.
Like something squeezing it from the outside.
The walls bent inward, light distorting as fractures spread in widening arcs.
Time was gone.
Emily could feel it.
In the air.
In her chest.
In the way the light inside her was starting to pulse faster again—reacting to the pressure, to the proximity of whatever was coming.
“They’re here,” Kael said.
Not panic.
Certainty.
Theodore’s shadows surged outward, stabilizing sections of the space temporarily—but even that was failing now, the darkness flickering under strain.
“We have seconds,” he said.
Emily’s heart pounded.
“Okay,” she said quickly. “No pressure, right? Just—rewrite reality before they grab me.”
Kael stepped in front of her.
Closer than anyone had
