My momentum carried me forward a few more steps before my legs gave out entirely. I collapsed onto the training room floor, my chest heaving, my vision gone. Every heartbeat sent a spike of agony through my skull, the backlash of pushing my newfound ability far beyond what was wise.
I crossed the finish line and kept going, not by choice, but because at that speed, I was a projectile now, no longer a runner. Hurtling forward with nothing but momentum.
For a moment, my legs finally remembered they were supposed to obey someone, but that someone was gone. Both mind and body switched off simultaneously, like a puppet whose strings had been severed mid leap. At full sprint, with the accumulated velocity of the last twenty five laps and a spell designed to cheat physics, the sudden loss of control was catastrophic.
