When Zaber tried to follow Larden, he began to feel something strange.
It was not heaviness in the body. His breathing was normal, his heart beat steadily, his arms and legs were intact. Yet inside, at the center of his chest, something had shifted—as though an unfamiliar weight had settled there, one that had never existed before.
He slowly turned his head. The sky was dim, colorless. The wind was not cold, yet it irritated his skin. When his body moved, there was no sharp pain—only a peculiar sense of adaptation.
"What is this…" he rasped.
His own voice sounded foreign to him.
Beside him came a soft movement. Something gentle touched his hand.
The kitten rubbed her head against his wrist and meowed quietly. Then she climbed onto his chest and lay exactly over the spot where the Spirit Chain rested. Warm, alive, ordinary.
Zaber took a deep breath.
"So… this is not heaviness."
