On the other side was no corridor, no engine room. There was a plain of shattered glass under a sky that bled. And standing in the middle of it, wearing the face of Kaelen's own dead mother, was a thing made of angles and echoes.
The door did not swing open. It inverted .
Behind him, the gate did not close. It waited .
Kaelen should have run. Instead, he knelt.
On the other side was no corridor, no engine room. There was a plain of shattered glass under a sky that bled. And standing in the middle of it, wearing the face of Kaelen's own dead mother, was a thing made of angles and echoes.
The door did not swing open. It inverted .
Behind him, the gate did not close. It waited .
Kaelen should have run. Instead, he knelt.
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