The world was white.
Not bright. Not blinding. Just… white.
A boundless, silent void—endless and empty. There were no shadows. No echoes. No up or down. Only a cold, polished floor beneath him.
Ezra lay motionless, silver hair fanned out like scattered moonlight. His breathing was shallow. His body heavy, as if gravity here had its own rules.
Then—
"Wake up."
A voice—thin and mechanical—rippled through the void. It came from nowhere. From everywhere. Ezra's eyelids twitched.
"Wake up."
It spoke again, sharper this time. Each word dug into his ears like metal hooks.
"Wake up. Wake up. Wake up—"
The phrase kept looping, faster, shriller, folding in on itself like a collapsing scream. Ezra's eyes flew open. He flinched, instinctively raising his hands to his head.
"WAKE UP."
It roared.
