The transition didn’t feel like a choice; it felt like an execution.
The Tanzanite stone atop the traveler’s staff began to pulse with a deep, oceanic blue that swallowed the violet glare of Nala’s corruption. It was a cold, heavy light, a frequency that felt like the crushing weight of the deep sea. Nala felt the Architect inside her thrash a digital seizure of such violence that her teeth began to crack. The screams in her head weren't voices anymore; they were the sounds of a thousand servers being ground into dust.
"I’m losing... I’m losing the edges of myself!" Nala cried out, her voice splitting into a dozen dissonant tones.
"Hold the center, Daughter of Bwire," the Fail Safe commanded, his voice as steady as the salt flats. "The tide is coming. If you let go now, you will drown i
