The white didn't fade.
It fractured.
Like something had shattered from the inside.
Dante felt it before he saw anything pressure collapsing inward, something forcing its way through him, not clean, not controlled. It wasn't pain. It was intrusion. Rewriting. Rearranging.
No.
He locked onto that single thought like it was the only thing keeping him anchored.
No.
The white cracked.
A thin line at first.
Then another.
Then
Everything snapped.
The world slammed back into place.
But it wasn't the same.
The space was still there the in-between, the controlled environment but now it felt unstable, like it couldn't decide what it was supposed to be anymore.
Dante dropped to one knee.
Not weak.
Grounding.
His breath came out slow, controlled, but his hand clenched hard against the floor.
Something was wrong.
Different.
He could feel it.
Not around him.
Inside.
"You are resisting."
The voice came from everywhere.
Not just in front of him anymore.
