Falling through the spiritual bloodstream of a dying god turned out to feel exactly like falling through a sheet of glass, except the landing didn't break their bones.
Lucien hit the ground first with a heavy, hollow thud. He rolled quickly, his boots skidding across a surface that looked like solid, glowing mirror glass. He scrambled back to his feet, his hands immediately checking his chest plates before he reached out blindly through the bright light.
"Elara!" Lucien shouted, his voice echoing in a space that had no walls. "Elara, where are you?"
"I'm right here, Lucien," she gasped from a few feet away.
She was flat on her back, clutching her side where she had pulled the shrapnel out. The massive, bleeding wound was no longer dripping normal red blood. Here, in the spiritual realm of the Leviathan, her open side was weeping a soft, glowing silver light that floated upward in small, quiet bubbles.
