The white noise of the collapse was not a sound, but a total sensory erasure. Aegis felt his Level 8 existence being stretched across a conceptual horizon, his very atoms vibrating at the frequency of a scream.
He was no longer falling; he was being "Translated." The violet scars on his skin pulsed with a violent, rhythmic light, acting as a structural anchor in a sea of un-formed data. He held onto Kael with a grip that defied the laws of inertia, his fingers dug into the boy's shimmering tunic.
"Don't let go!" Aegis roared, though he had no lungs and there was no air to carry the sound. He projected the thought through his Intelligence 20 core, forcing the reality around them to maintain a bubble of coherence.
The white noise suddenly snapped into a terrifying, resonant black.
