Arc 3, Chapter 35: The Inversion
Anna focused on Ash as violet light threaded with black washed the room.
The distorted energy bled from his pores and hung in the air like thick, shimmering fog. His legs buckled.
Anna moved at once. She caught his arm as he staggered and steadied him before he could fall. He gripped her shoulder for balance. His breath came in sharp bursts. On the wet stone, they lowered to their knees.
"Get back!" she shouted over her shoulder.
Anna reached into her vest and tore a glass vial from its hidden loop. Pale blue liquid swirled inside with faint internal light.
With her thumb, she popped the cork and brought the vial to his lips. "Swallow this."
Ash's hand shot up and gripped her wrist. His fingers dug in hard enough to feel bone beneath skin.
"This will buy you time." Anna kept her voice steady.
His grip held for another second. Then released.
She tilted the vial and pressed the rim against his teeth. The liquid poured into his mouth. He swallowed twice, his throat working to take it down.
His eyes rolled back. His body went slack in her arms.
The violet threads faded, dissolving one by one. His chest rose and fell in a deeper, steadier rhythm.
Sand kept falling.
Wide cascades poured from the ceiling. Gold grit hit the water with the sound of heavy rain.
The layer already covered Anna's boots.
She shifted her grip under his armpits and heaved. Her boots slid in the wet sand as she dragged him toward the center of the room.
Every movement required effort to stay upright.
"We're wasting time on a dead man," Pell's voice came from behind her.
*Can't keep his mouth shut.—*
*—sand's burying us, and he's still whining.*
Anna dragged Ash another two steps.
"Get over here and lift," she snapped.
Voss was the first to wade through the sand. He took Ash's legs.
Pell hesitated, then gripped Ash's tunic.
The three of them hauled together.
Anna adjusted her hold as Ash's weight pulled at her shoulders.
She flexed her wrist. *Tch. Bastard nearly broke it.*
Voss and Pell grunted with effort, their boots churning through wet sand as they fought for traction.
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Her gaze swept across the chamber.
Vera and Orin stood nearby, sand climbing to their waists.
Rowan remained back against the masonry, his fingers dug into the narrow cracks between the blocks.
Anna returned her attention to Ash, then focused on the center of the room, where the sand piled highest.
Gold grit continued to pile around them.
Anna's thighs throbbed with a sharp, pulsing ache as she fought for every inch of height.
She had to yank her boots from the suction of the grains before her weight could settle, only to sink again as the surface gave way.
Beside her, Voss and Pell hauled the sagging bulk of Ash's body, their breath coming in heavy, jagged bursts.
The sand rose from knees to waists while the ceiling pressed close overhead.
Rough granite pressed low enough that her shoulder scraped stone. She angled her body into the tightening pocket of air.
Rowan’s frantic wheezing reached her from the shadows.
Vera let out a series of high, thin whimpers.
Sand climbed to Anna’s chest.
In her arms, Ash’s weight shifted. Previous limpness vanished as his muscles knotted under her hands.
His eyelids fluttered open.
The dull gray film still clouded his left eye. Pupils shrank to tiny pinpricks against the light.
After blinking twice, he turned his head to stare at the stone ceiling inches from his nose. His gaze drifted down to the sand rising toward his chin.
"Stay still," Anna said. "We’ve got you."
Ash didn't speak. His chest heaved against her arm in quick, frantic movements.
The sand reached their necks.
Vera's voice cracked from somewhere in the darkness. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." The words dissolved into choking sobs.
Rowan's breathing turned ragged and wet. He clawed at the stone above his head, nails scraping uselessly against granite.
Brilliance ignited inches above their heads.
Anna squinted as white geometric patterns carved themselves into the granite, the light so intense it washed out the colors of the room.
The ceiling groaned under sudden heat.
Jagged seams ripped through rock along the glowing lines, sending heavy granite chunks splashing into the sand. The roof gave way.
The ceiling dissolved.
Cold air rushed against her face.
Gravity vanished.
A hollow void opened in Anna's gut.
The room swung.
A wide, heavy arc.
Sand pressure against her chest disappeared.
The horizon flipped sideways.
She clamped her arms around Ash.
The entire hall rolled over.
Floor and ceiling switched places.
Anna tumbled through the open space.
Sand rained past her in a golden curtain.
Voss and Pell spun nearby. Their limbs thrashed as they reached for handholds in empty air.
The roar of wind filled her ears as she fell through a pitch-black expanse.
Her fingers stayed locked around Ash's arm.
She struck a surface without the jar of stone or thud of earth.
The impact was silent.
The surface gave beneath her like raw wool, swallowing her momentum and cushioning her spine.
Anna gasped, her lungs expanding as the air turned sweet and cool.
The black void vanished in a single pulse.
Rose-pink light ignited across the expanse, erasing every shadow before Anna could even blink. Saturated ribbons of cerulean and emerald sliced through the pink in long, horizontal sweeps.
*Down the rabbit hole. Straight into hell.*
She pushed herself up, her palms sinking into the white substance beneath her. It felt dense and cool, a floor of compacted mist that held her weight but shifted when she moved.
Structures hovered in the colored haze.
Houses with gabled roofs and stone cottages suspended in the open air.
Massive iron chains, each link the size of a tree trunk, rose from the rooftops.
Anna followed the line of the nearest chain. The metal climbed into the rose-colored sky until it simply ceased.
The final link hung open, its edge sharp and clean against the pink void, held up by no visible support.
Dozens of these severed tethers reached in every direction, anchoring buildings to the empty sky.
Nearby, Voss sat up. He rubbed a hand over his face.
Pell rolled onto his side to clear his lungs with a series of wet coughs.
Ash remained flat on the mist. His chest rose and fell in a steady, healthy rhythm.
Anna looked toward the center of the sky.
An hourglass loomed over the entire horizon. The structure was a colossus of glass, its walls thick as a fortress and curved into a familiar twin-bulb shape.
It stood as a mountain in the air. Golden sand packed the interior from top to bottom, the grains pressed so tight they appeared solid. The gold was static, frozen in place within the glass.
At the base of the lower bulb, a small pocket of clear space remained.
Anna narrowed her eyes.
Small, pale shapes were jammed into that tiny gap, crushed beneath the weight of the motionless sand above them.
Hundreds of porcelain dolls stared out through the glass. Their carved faces were pressed together in a silent, crowded mass.

