The world didn't just return; it slammed into me with the force of a falling mountain.
I hit the floor of the Great Hall with a sickening thud, the breath driven from my lungs in a single, ragged gasp. The transition from the searing, data-saturated heat of the Prime Node to the absolute zero of the Northern Spire was a physical assault. For a few terrifying seconds, my nervous system couldn't decide if I was burning or freezing. I lay there, my cheek pressed against stone that was so cold it felt like it was trying to weld itself to my skin.
The silence of the Spire was the first thing I noticed. It wasn't the peaceful silence of a snowfall; it was the heavy, pressurized silence of a tomb. The air was thin and tasted of ancient dust and ozone, stinging the back of my throat with every
