They had barely cleared the basin when Dante faltered in mid-flight.
It wasn't dramatic—no sudden plummet or cry of pain—just a subtle shift in his trajectory, a wobble in his ascent that spoke of strength failing. Selena felt it through their merged connection before she saw it: a sudden emptiness opening up inside him, a void where power should have been.
"Dante?" She adjusted her flight to match his slowing pace, her singed wings working harder to keep them both aloft. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," he said, but his voice lacked conviction, and his face had gone pale in the dim light filtering down from the Chamber of Bones far above. "Just... tired. We've been through a lot."
