They fell.
Not gracefully. Not in formation. They fell like stones dropped into an ocean, tumbling through layers of screaming air and fractured light. Michael tried to spread his wings—they wouldn't open. Gabriel reached for something to grab—there was nothing. Ariel screamed curses into the void. Exousia closed her eyes and waited.
Lucifer didn't fight it. He let himself fall, his eyes fixed on the storm below, on the flashes of the women he loved being torn apart by things he couldn't see.
The impact came hard.
He hit ground that felt like solid rock but looked like frozen memory. Around him, the others landed in different spots, scattered across a landscape that didn't make sense. Mountains that wept. Rivers that flowed upward. Trees made of glass that shattered and regrew in cycles.
Bariel's voice was strained, barely audible. "Realm of Echoes. You're all in the same space this time. What one of you does affects the others. Don't make it worse."
