The ground struck Lucien hard enough to throw dust across the plain.
He landed on one knee.
For several breaths, he remained there while the last remnants of the temporal passage disappeared above him.
The sky closed.
The pressure that had carried him backward through history vanished with it.
Lucien slowly raised his head.
Nothing moved.
A broad plain stretched toward distant hills beneath a pale blue sky. Sparse trees broke the grassland at irregular intervals, their branches shifting beneath an ordinary wind.
There were no cities. No roads cut through the earth.
Lucien stood.
His perception spread immediately.
Several kilometers.
Then farther.
Forests appeared beyond the hills. Rivers wound through valleys untouched by artificial channels. Animals moved between the trees.
Lucien extended his senses until the horizon itself became meaningless.
Nothing was familiar.
No Lootwell.
No ancient ruins he recognized.
