Whoosh
Damian's body tore through existence itself, dragged forward through a river made of light that shouldn't exist.
Colors bled together in patterns that hurt to look at, streaming past his vision too fast to process.
His limbs hung weightless, suspended in currents that pulled him forward with force he couldn't resist.
The sensation twisted his stomach, made his head spin, turned everything inside out.
"Why did you drag me away without–"
The words ripped from his throat, raw and desperate.
But before the sentence could complete, before the question could fully form–
Everything stopped.
The motion ceased with jarring abruptness, leaving Damian suspended in light that had become still as glass.
"–letting me say goodbye properly?!"
The rest of his protest emerged into stillness, bouncing back without echo.
But the Mask wasn't listening.
Its presence blazed with something Damian had never felt from it before, sharp and urgent and carrying edges that approached panic.
