We'd been back at the safehouse for maybe an hour when it happened.
Azryth's back was mostly healed, the burns reduced to angry red marks that would fade completely in another hour or two. We were gathered around the map projection, discussing which rift to hit next for our twentieth closure.
"South America has a standalone rift," Henrik was saying, pointing at the projection. "Peru. No cluster affiliation, should be straightforward."
"Nothing's been straightforward," I pointed out.
"True, but it's geographically isolated, minimal civilian presence…"
That's when reality shifted.
One moment I was standing in the safehouse listening to Henrik's tactical analysis, the next, the world lurched sideways, and I felt my consciousness being pulled away with enough force that I couldn't fight it.
Beside me, I felt Azryth experience the same thing.
My body was still standing in the safehouse, I could sense that dimly, but my mind was suddenly somewhere else entirely.
***
