The universe vanished into a vault of dead felt.
The moment the brass covers of the 1964 Detention Ledger passed ninety degrees, every photon of light and every wave of acoustic energy in the lobby was canceled by the Shift Covenant.
It wasn’t darkness like closing your eyes. It was the absolute void of an un-audited ledger page.
Julian couldn’t see his boots. He couldn’t see his hands.
The high-pitched 4,200 Hertz ring in his right ear dropped dead, replaced by the crushing, hollow pressure of zero decibels.
Beside him, the roar of Falk’s two-hundred-PSI flamethrowers was snuffed out like a candle in water.
One.
Elena was already moving.
