Chapter 8 · The Weight of a Crown

"Can't breathe... please..."

That was the first sound that hit me. Not a scream, but a wet, desperate rattle. I looked around the Undercity hub. Hundreds of them—mercenaries, street thugs, corporate cleaners—were all hitting the deck at once. It looked like a choreographed dance of failure. They weren't just falling; they were being crushed into the concrete.

"What the hell is happening?" Roxie yelled, her voice tight. She was vibrating, her speedster metabolism making her a blur of anxiety beside me. She grabbed my arm, her fingers digging into my sleeve. "Kaelen, the air is gone. Everything's gone!"

I didn't tell her that the air hadn't vanished. I'd just decided it didn't belong in this room anymore.

I stepped forward, the soles of my boots clicking against the grit. With every inch I moved, the pressure intensified. The gravity void I’d opened wasn't just pulling; it was erasing the possibility of resistance. I could feel my core humming, a low, violent vibration that made the marrow in my bones itch.