He doesn't look at me. He looks at the Earth, hanging in the distance like a fragile, blue marble.
It’s so quiet here, Mama, Asher projects, his mental voice a dual-tone horror, layered with a high, mechanical whine. There’s no dirt. There’s no noise. The Formless says the physical world is just a loud, messy error. It says we can fix it. It says we can make it quiet.
It’s lying to you! Kade roars, sprinting forward. He drops to his knees beside his son, his right hand gripping Asher’s shoulder. Feel my hand, little wolf! Feel the suit! Feel the heat!
The heat is inefficient, Asher replies, his voice entirely devoid of emotion. The suit is a flawed geometry. The Formless is fixing the flaws.
The violet rot spreads faster, consuming half the spire. The cognitive cage is failing. The For
