CHAPTER 55: The Unending Blue
What spread beneath the parachutes shouldn't have existed.
Elijah turned slowly in his harness, the nylon straps digging channels into his shoulders. His neck rotated with mechanical precision, scanning the territory below with the methodical focus of someone cataloging terrain rather than experiencing wonder. What he saw defied every natural law he'd ever learned.
A grey-blue expanse rolled out to meet a horizon that didn't sit right. The curve wasn't planetary—it warped and bent like looking through the bottom of a glass bottle. Light emerged from nowhere and everywhere simultaneously, a pervasive blue glow that stained his exposed skin, painted the parachute fabric overhead, colored even the condensation of his exhaled breath. No shadows existed here. The wind pressed against him from all angles at once, buffeting without direction or source.
His body maintained combat readiness even in freefall. Knees bent slightly, boots swaying beneath him. His gloved hands gripped the steering toggles with steady pressure, making constant tiny adjustments that accomplished nothing. There was no destination to steer toward. Only the blue. Only the wrongness.
Chloe descended twenty feet to his left. She'd tucked herself into a defensive ball at first, but as minutes dragged past with no ground rising to meet them, she began to unfold. One white-knuckled hand stayed locked on her chest strap while the other lifted, fingers spreading wide as if she could touch the impossible atmosphere and make sense of it. Wind tore moisture from her eyes the instant tears formed, streaking the wetness back across her temples into her hairline. When she finally looked down, Elijah watched her entire understanding of reality crack apart. Her breathing stopped for three full seconds. Her spine went rigid. She wasn't staring at a location anymore. She was staring into the void where familiar geography should have been.
Ahead and right, Marcus wrestled with his parachute lines like he could force meaning into this place through sheer determination. He yanked hard, shoulders twisting, trying to bank toward anything that made sense. His movements came in sharp, frustrated bursts. He kept glancing over his shoulder, searching the empty sky for the massive giant they'd jumped from, but nothing remained except the featureless blue haze above. His jaw clenched, teeth visible. Pure tactical frustration etched across his face.
Vivian just hung there. A puppet with cut strings. Her arms dangled loose, head tilted back at an unnatural angle, eyes open but not seeing. They fixed on her own parachute canopy rippling above her. She'd abandoned the world the moment Richie's body dissolved into nothing. Now her flesh was just following where her mind had already gone.
The drones appeared without warning.
They materialized from the blue above, sleek metallic insects with bodies of brushed silver. Multi-faceted crystal lenses caught and shattered the sourceless light into prismatic fragments. They didn't hover in place—they orbited, weaving elaborate spiraling patterns around the falling figures. One dove close to Vivian, its lens focusing tight on the emptiness behind her eyes. Another matched Elijah's descent speed, its camera assembly whirring softly as it zoomed in on the cold calculation visible in his expression.
*User 'SkyWatcher': This camera work is insane. How are they getting these angles?*
*User 'LostProphet': Something's off about the physics here. The depth perspective doesn't match any green screen I've ever seen.*
A structure emerged from the blue void below. A single line at first, thin as pencil lead from this distance, then thickening as they descended. A bridge. Narrow, segmented, constructed from dark grey metal that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it. It hung suspended over nothing, no visible pylons or cables supporting its weight. Beneath it churned a dense white fog that moved with unnatural slowness, swallowing all sound that touched it.
Rectangular platforms jutted from the bridge at irregular intervals, each one glowing with harsh white illumination like runway markers in thick weather. The light had a sterile quality that made Elijah's eyes want to water.
The wind didn't guide them down. Something else did. An invisible force took hold of each parachute canopy, reeling them in with gentle but absolute certainty. Each person was drawn toward a different glowing platform. There was no fighting it.
Elijah's boots struck metal grating first. The impact rang out sharp and clear. He rolled with the momentum, converting downward force into forward motion, coming up in a low crouch with his center of gravity balanced. His harness released with a pneumatic hiss. The parachute silk collapsed, then got sucked away into a slot in the platform with a sound like an industrial vacuum. Gone in seconds. He rose to full height, already analyzing.
Chloe hit her platform five yards away, less controlled. She stumbled forward, her right ankle rolling outward, but caught the railing before she went down completely. Marcus landed ten yards beyond her on a platform offset from the bridge's centerline, forcing him toward the left-side railing. Vivian came down hard behind him, both knees slamming into metal with a sharp cry of pain.
The bridge itself was barely wide enough for three people to walk side-by-side. Simple waist-high railings ran along both edges. Through the metal grating beneath their feet, nothing was visible except that silent, hungry fog.
They scrambled toward each other, boots clanging on metal that groaned under their combined weight. The four of them reformed into a tight cluster near the center of the bridge, a small island of familiar terror surrounded by an ocean of the impossible.
Elijah's gaze locked onto Chloe immediately. He traced the way she favored her right side, the tension pulling at the corners of her mouth. Something heavy pressed against his ribcage from the inside, a constant weight. *Keep her alive. She's the only thing that matters here.*
She felt his stare and raised her head. Her eyes, still carrying the shock of what she'd seen in that endless sky, met his directly. She recognized the worry there, naked and unconcealed for once. Something passed between them—understanding, acknowledgment, something neither could name.
She straightened, testing her weight on the injured ankle, then shook her head once. Sharp. Definite.
"I can handle myself, Elijah." Her voice came out rough from the dry, strange air, but absolutely steady.
He didn't break eye contact.
Her next words dropped quieter, meant only for him despite the drones swooping lower overhead. "My uncle Jeffrey talked about you. Long before we ever crossed paths at Crestwood Poly." She held his gaze without flinching. "I know what you are."
Something fundamental shifted inside Elijah's chest. Not the bridge—something internal, structural. For one unguarded second, his control shattered completely. His eyes went wide, pupils dilating with genuine shock. His breath caught halfway up his throat. The careful neutral mask he maintained at all times dissolved like sugar in hot water.
Then just as quickly, his expression rebuilt itself. The surprise melted away, smoothing out and reforming into something new—a slow smile that curved his lips upward while leaving his grey eyes completely flat and lifeless. It was the most disturbing expression Chloe had ever witnessed on a human face.
"Wait." The word came out soft, almost gentle. "You know about my..." He let the sentence hang unfinished in the air between them, the frozen smile still fixed in place. Question and warning combined into one unspoken threat.
Chloe nodded once. "I know." She offered nothing else. No comfort, no judgment. Just fact. A card placed face-up on the table.
Marcus's harsh voice cut through the moment. He was focused on Vivian, who was hyperventilating now, fingers clawing uselessly at the metal grating beneath her. "Wycliffe! Eyes on me!" Vivian's tear-blurred gaze snapped to him. "You stay on my six. Step where I step. Don't think, just copy. You understand?"
Vivian managed a jerky nod, her hand clamping onto his forearm like he was the only solid thing left in the universe.
Elijah's smile disappeared as though it had never existed. His eyes emptied of any personal concern, becoming flat recording instruments again as he scanned from Chloe to Marcus. He noted Marcus's position—the off-center landing, his proximity to the dangerous left edge. He noted the platform spacing, the landing sequence they'd followed.
*Landing pattern established. Marcus shows left-side bias. Chloe's injury is manageable. Variables logged and categorized.*
A deep, resonant CLANG echoed the length of the bridge—the sound of massive mechanical gears engaging somewhere beneath them. The vibration traveled up through the soles of their boots, into their leg bones, settling into their spines.
From the left side of the bridge, a massive slab of pitted, blackened steel suddenly swung outward with a violent WHOOSH of displaced air. The thing was the size of a car door. It passed through the space where Elijah's head had been a heartbeat earlier, missing him by inches. The blade wasn't aimed at him specifically. It was the opening beat of a lethal rhythm about to unfold.
The Bridge of Solitary Weight had woken up.
And from his position just behind Marcus and slightly to the right, Elijah's internal sabotage algorithm began its silent, methodical execution.