The star-core didn’t feel like empty space.
It felt like plunging a bare arm into a high-speed heavy-duty meat grinder spinning at ten million turns a minute.
The event horizon bit into Lin Ke’s forearm with terrifying, transverse tidal forces, trying to stretch his skin into subatomic threads and crush his marrow into lead.
Years ago, when Lin Ke had been a starved coal-sweeper in Fire No. 9, thirty pounds of static pressure had been enough to fracture his ribs.
Now, his Body Integration v5.0 stonework engaged with a silent, crystal-clear hum.
His skin, infused with non-Euclidean Vitreous Glass, didn’t tear.
His Ashen Iron skeleton, integrated directly into the spatial map point lattice, didn’t yield.
The tidal forces washed over his arm like warm water, deflected into higher-space-folding folds before they could transfer a single foot-pound of striking force to his living cells.
