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... eight.
Not the crushing kind, no, this was worse. It was the sudden, humiliating realization that I was no longer falling with purpose. I was tumbling, spinning, scraped raw by violet light that bit at my skin like static and heat all at once.
The portal swallowed me whole.
Sound vanished.
Direction vanished.
Up and down became suggestions rather than rules.
For a brief, stupid moment, I wondered if this was what being unmade felt like. ...
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