The ceiling came apart first.
Not collapsed—came apart, individual stones lifting free of the ones beside them and hanging suspended for a heartbeat before shooting upward, vanishing into a ceiling that no longer existed, into a darkness that had replaced it without any transition at all. Dust that should have fallen sideways instead rained toward the walls. A support beam cracked with a sound like a gunshot, and its splinters scattered in three directions that had nothing to do with each other.
"Down!" He Jian's voice cracked through the chaos, and it was pure instinct that saved them, all of them dropping flat against stone that suddenly no longer felt entirely solid beneath their hands. "Everyone stay low, stay together—"
"Low is not staying anywhere," Xu Ran shouted back, and he was right. The floor tilted gradually, the way a boat tilted in rough water, and everyone slid two feet toward the broken pillar before the tilt reversed itself and sent them sliding back.
