The first thing Kessa noticed when reality reasserted itself was the sound of breathing—ragged, labored, but unmistakably alive. She opened her eyes to find herself lying on scorched earth beneath a sky split between twilight and starlight, as if the universe itself couldn't decide which state of existence held dominion.
Around her, the surviving members of the Legion stirred. Some groaned as consciousness returned, others simply stared at the impossible vista above them—half-familiar constellations bleeding into patterns that belonged to no mortal sky. The fortress was gone, reduced to scattered stones and cooling glass, but they had survived the void-wave that should have erased them from existence entirely.
