The spatial tear didn't deposit them; it spat them out.
Gravity snapped back with the force of a physical blow. Elias hit the ground shoulder-first, the impact driving the remaining breath from his lungs. His fractured ribs ground together, a sharp, white-hot spike of agony radiating through his chest. He rolled across uneven, jagged concrete, his hands scraping against exposed rebar before he finally skidded to a halt.
He lay there for a second, coughing violently, tasting pulverized cement and old, cold ash.
To his left, a heavy, sickening thud shook the debris. Colby hit the ground like a dropped safe. The massive, two-hundred-percent baseline muscles of his back arched as he convulsed, his hands flying to his scarred chest. The sickly orange glow of his soul energy infusion flared erratically beneath his skin, his heart stuttering against the violent shock of the transfer.
