The Arctic facility groaned around them, its ancient walls trembling with the weight of revelation.
Michael lay on the cold stone floor, his body weak, his mind reeling. The Absolute was gone. He could feel its absence like a phantom limb, a void where something vast and ancient had once resided. But he was alive. Against all odds, he was still alive.
Clarice knelt beside him, her hands on his face, her eyes searching his. "Michael, can you hear me? Can you speak?"
He tried to nod, but his neck felt like rubber. "I'm here," he managed, his voice barely a whisper. "I'm still here."
Relief flooded her features. She pulled him into an embrace, her body trembling against his. "I thought I'd lost you. I thought you were gone."
"I'm not going anywhere," he said, his voice growing stronger.
