The portal did not roar.
It hummed, low and tight, like the world itself was holding its breath.
Runes layered upon runes spun slowly in the air, each one anchored not to space alone, but to a living soul. Natasha stood at the center of the formation, barefoot on the cold obsidian floor of the Abyss Tower's highest chamber. Her physical body remained on Earth, unconscious, fragile, breathing somewhere far beyond this world.
Here, only her soul stood.
Alvin's hands were steady, but his jaw was clenched so tightly that Rowan could see the muscle twitch beneath his skin.
"This connection is dangerous," Cryus said quietly. "Using a soul as an anchor across realities is—"
"I know," Alvin cut in.
Lucian swallowed. "If anything goes wrong—"
"It will not," Alvin said. His voice left no room for debate.
Natasha looked at him. "Alvin."
He did not look away from the runes. "Do not speak. Your soul must remain stable."
She nodded, though her eyes were already wet.
The air shifted.
