Damien felt the change before anyone else.
Felicity's pulse steadied beneath his fingers, deepening from a shallow survival rhythm into something controlled and deliberate. Her breathing evened out. The air around her shifted almost imperceptibly, as though the pressure inside the space had recalibrated.
Her eyes opened.
There was no confusion in them.
Victor leaned forward instantly, one hand bracing her shoulder. He acted as if afraid she might disappear if he did not anchor her physically.
"Felicity."
"I'm here," she said.
Her voice, rough from disuse, came out steady.
Voss stepped closer. His body automatically positioned itself between her and the open levels of the car park. "How do you feel?"
She took a slow breath, as if testing internal systems. "Contained."
Tommy frowned. "Contained how?"
She flexed her fingers. Around her hand, the air tightened—not with visible light, but density. It felt like pressure behind glass.
