Amara’s descent seemed endless, a spiraling abyss pulling her deeper into its heart. The cold air rushed past her, sharp and unforgiving, but there was no ground beneath her, no way to brace for impact. Her mind raced, trying to grasp hold of some rational thought, but everything was slipping through her fingers like water. The voice had called her name, but who had shouted it? Who could possibly be reaching out in this chaos?
And yet, even as the abyss swallowed her, she felt something else—a shift, subtle at first, like the first tremor before an earthquake. Her body began to twist in mid-air, caught in some invisible current, spiraling upwards instead of falling. The darkness didn’t loosen its grip on her, but she could feel it weakening, the walls closing in less tightly as something
