The silence was haunting.
After the blinding eruption of the Genesis Fracture Protocol, the group stood frozen in a place that seemed stitched together from the scattered fragments of realities. The air shimmered with temporal echoes. Mountains floated upside-down in the sky, dripping with light. The ground beneath them rippled like memory—unstable, volatile, yet eerily beautiful.
Rina knelt down, brushing her fingers against the surface of the crystalline plain. It wasn't soil. It wasn't even data. It was possibility, condensed into form.
"This is Eden's Echo Field," Eve whispered. "The place where aborted timelines collapse into one another. A realm outside linear continuity."
Aly stared into the sky, where lightning danced backward. "Are we dead?"
Ethan let out a dry laugh. "Not yet. But I'm not placing any bets."
