Gravity’s First Lesson
The morning air in Jiangnan was thick with the smell of wet concrete and ozone. Xin sat on a wooden crate in the middle of a collapsed parking garage, staring at a small, round pebble on the floor.
He wasn't glowing. There were no energy wings, no silver armor, and no voice in his head telling him how to save the world. He was just a nineteen-year-old with bruised ribs and sore muscles. Two days had passed since he burned out his core to stop the vortex, and the silence inside his chest was deafening.
"Staring at it won't make it float, kid," Captain Han said.
Han walked across the cracked floor, his heavy combat boots echoing in the empty space. He wasn't wearing his fancy armor today, just a black tank top and cargo pants. He looked solid—like a man who had spe
