The pressure of the void broke.
Elias entered the new world as warmth, weight, and air too small for him.
His first breath barely counted. His chest pulled weakly, wrong in every measurement. Warm linen, crushed lavender, and dried herbs filled his nose. He tried to open his eyes, and the lids dragged apart like wet cloth.
No white tile. No emergency lights. No blue crystal holding his old body.
Dark wooden beams crossed the ceiling above him. Sunlight slipped through a high narrow window and caught dust in the air. The room smelled of waxed wood, clean blankets, and herbs left too long in a bowl.
The bassinet rocked faintly under him. Somewhere beyond the wall, a woman laughed, and somewhere farther away a bell rang twice. The sounds arrived softened by wood and cloth, domestic in a way that felt almost insulting after Cube X.
Elias tried to move.
His right arm twitched.
