The first thing I realized about being dead was that it was surprisingly loud.
It wasn't the sound of angels or demons, but the shrieking of crushed metal and the rhythmic thumping of high pressure pumps. I opened my eyes, expecting to see the white light of the afterlife. Instead, I saw a ceiling of rusted steel and flickering blue cables that looked like glowing veins.
I wasn't in the Atlantic anymore. And I wasn't just Elena Vance.
I tried to sit up, but a sharp, electric shock bolted through my spine, pinning me back to the cold exam table. My skin felt different tight, buzzing with a low-frequency hum that I could hear behind my ears.
"Don't fight the synchronization," a voice rasped from the shadows. "Your body thinks it's drowning, but your mind is finally learning how to breath
