The tremor in Lu Chen’s lower belly didn’t fade with the settling of the dust.
Instead, it sped up, climbing his main spine nerve like a column of boiling liquid silver.
In the center of his dantian, the dual-core smelting fire continued its relentless, counter-rotating orbit.
Twenty-four thousand turns a minute.
The clockwise spin of the left fire core and the counter-clockwise spin of the right core kept a flawless clockwork balance in his meatspace anatomy.
Yet his central nervous system had not evolved to house two suns.
The human brain was wired for singular gravity—one heart, one breath, one down, one up.
The presence of twin gravity barycenters inside his pelvis began to warp his body sense into a violent, sickening spiral.
