"And you," she said softly.
They stepped out of the space together. The doorway folded shut behind them with the same quiet certainty it always had, sealing itself so cleanly the air barely rippled where it had been.
Outside, the atmosphere felt different immediately.
Heavier.
Not oppressive.
Charged.
The kind of pressure that gathered before storms, when the air grew thick and every living thing seemed to pause and listen without knowing why.
Felicity inhaled slowly and frowned. Something about it felt wrong. Not dangerous exactly.
Strange.
The sensation didn't belong to smell or sound. It pressed against her awareness the way humidity pressed against skin.
Warm.
Unsettling.
Ivan rubbed the back of his neck slowly, gaze drifting toward the fog.
"Is it just me," he muttered, "or does it feel like the air's… leaning."
Damien's pupils narrowed instantly "It's influence."
Victor's jaw tightened "The Commander."
Felicity swallowed "It feels like hunger."
