It wasn't fast—speed wasn't the terror. It was inevitability. Every fraction of descent was accompanied by the groan of bending steel, the howl of collapsing towers, the scream of the abyss-born as their devotion twisted into agony.
Lin felt it not on his skin, but in his marrow. The air itself became a weight, pressing into his chest until each breath came jagged and raw. His knees trembled, bones cracking, chains whipping outward in a frenzy to hold him upright.
Around him, the others could barely move.
Min-joon was on his stomach, teeth gritted, clawing at the pavement as if dragging himself an inch closer might matter. Keller was half-slumped against a wrecked car, pistol still in his hand, his finger trembling against the trigger—but even he couldn't lift the weapon now. The sheer weight of resonance crushed his aim.
