The chair where Dante sat blurred at the edges. His voice carried through the distortion, low and steady. "Remember, resist. Or you'll scatter."
Then the circle swallowed me whole.
The world collapsed into a prism.
Color was no longer color but shards that screamed as they bent around me, a kaleidoscope of tearing light.
The sensation hit instantly like hooks ramming into every nerve, pulling me apart. My arms stretched, then shrank, then multiplied into ghostly outlines before snapping back. My skin blistered in places, streaks of black tearing across it as if reality itself were scratching me raw.
My chest convulsed under the weight. Breath caught, and I felt my body shiver on the edge of breaking.
I forced my jaw shut, holding back a growl. "Now it's up to you, body. Handle this."
The thought grounded me.
I recalled my new passive and its effects of adapting to any situation and stress on the body. And it reacted instantly.
