PREVIEW

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First, there was light, merciless, absolute. It ripped the horizon open, bleeding white fire across a sky that screamed without sound. The ground tilted, cleaved, then convulsed like a living thing trying to escape itself. Buildings folded in on their own blueprints, and the air turned traitor, shuddering once before hardening into a weapon that bent metal and bone alike.

In the heart of that unmaking, he ran. Every step became a gamble against extinction. Time splintered into moments that stuttered and rewound. He saw himself die twice, survive once, and keep going. His shadow flickered across fractured space, outpacing the collapse by fractions of a heartbeat.

Behind him, the sky caved inward. A blinding singularity bloomed at its core, devouring everything with grace, until... the noise vanished. The color drained. The universe took one long, breath and exhaled him.

He plunged through the tear, swallowed by the dark. For a moment, there was nothing, then the ocean took him, brutal and unyielding, stealing his breath with each turn. Just as his strength failed, one gracious wave rose beneath him, and carried him toward the shore. 

He broke the surface with a gasp that tore through silence. Coughs turned into laughter, raw and disbelieving. All that was left was a long, ragged sigh. The storm inside him finally went still. Brilliance faded to gold, the sand beneath him coarse, cool at first, then slowly warming to his skin as if welcoming him back into existence. His breathing came in staggered pulls—half gasp, half gratitude. Where chaos had roared, waves now whispered. 

The traveler closed his eyes. His body felt heavier than the world he’d escaped. 

For a long while, he didn’t move. His mind was still catching up to his body, dragging fragments of memory through a fog of collapse. He remembered the roar—the distortion—the feeling of everything folding inward. He remembered the certainty that it was over. Yet here he was, pinned between silence and surf, alive.

A few minute later, He pushed himself upright. His muscles protested, as if unsure that movement still mattered. 

The horizon shimmered in front, the ocean stretched endlessly into the distance, while sunlight played on the water’s skin.

He looked at his hands. They trembled, faint arcs of residual light fading from his fingertips. The echoes of other worlds still clung to him, along with the the smell of ozone and hum beneath his pulse. He flexed his fingers and the glow died entirely. Just skin now. Just a man.

A wave rolled in and touched his boots. It was cool, grounding. He let it wash over his feet, felt the pull of the retreating tide tug gently at his balance. The rhythm steadied him. Thoughts came like fragments of glass. Was it over? Had he made it through or merely sideways? 

Each question dissolved leaving only a profound fatigue wrapped in quiet wonder.

He drew in a slow breath, tasting salt and sunlight.

His eyes drifted closed.

The chaos that had chased him across worlds faded to nothing but a heartbeat.

He sat there, unmoving, as the sea wind combed through his hair and the warmth of the sun stitched him back together. The universe could collapse again if it wished. For this moment, it didn’t matter.

He was here.

Whole enough.

Still enough to collect his thoughts.