I came back to myself like waking from underwater.
No sudden gasp. No scream. Just a slow drag upward through syrup-thick thought and fractured light. The ceiling above me was unfamiliar—circular, carved with symbols that pulsed in dim violet. The floor beneath me felt too warm. Not physically, but… psychically. Like standing on a memory still alive.
Someone was saying my name.
Far away.
"Julia—"
A hand on my cheek.
Julian.
I turned toward the sound, blinking hard. The room tilted, then steadied, though the air still carried too much weight, like it hadn't yet decided whether I belonged back in it.
"I'm here," I croaked. My throat felt dry, but my voice echoed strangely in my own head. Split, layered. Like two versions of me were trying to speak at once and hadn't agreed on syntax.
Julian's eyes were wide. Scared. His hands cradled either side of my face, but his voice was soft. "Hey. Hey. Look at me. You're okay. You're back. Just breathe."
