One by one, other players stirred on the ground. They pushed onto elbows and knees with slow, unsteady movements.
Fei Ming counted ten who managed to stand or sit. Five others stayed motionless. White foam covered their open mouths and trailed down their chins. Their chests showed no movement.
A few distances away, Misfortune remained seated in the dirt, her gaze fixed on her open hand.
After a long, hollow silence, she crushed her fingers into a fist until the skin looked ready to tear over her knuckles. "It… wasn't real," she muttered to herself.
While Olive and Xia hauled each other up, Keres staggered blindly. He hit the wall, his knees buckling as he collapsed.
He barely had time to turn his head before he was vomiting, doubling over as he retched violently onto the stone. The acid burned his throat as he heaved again and again.
The sound was wet and jagged, his shoulders heaving in rhythmic, painful spasms long after his stomach was empty.
