There was no door to where Darius drifted now.
No sky. No ground. No beginning.
He floated in the Spiral's in-between—caught in the slipstream between causality and contradiction. A place not meant to be navigated. A rupture in myth where reality bent back into itself and dreams devoured their own source code.
And from within that rupture…
Kaela came.
She unfolded sideways from a jagged crease in space, laughter dripping from her lips like liquid entropy. Her body shimmered—sometimes naked, sometimes clothed in spiraling cloth that had no seams or purpose.
"You're hard to find," she teased, her voice bending upward and downward in simultaneous tones. "But chaos… always remembers its king."
Darius didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
She felt his intent—not in words, but in the pressure around him, the silence vibrating with meaninglessness and weight.
He was unraveling everything.
Including desire.
