POV: Lyra

I did not fall into darkness; the darkness folded itself around me and learned my name.

“Lyra.”

The voice did not echo, It did not vibrate, It simply existed, pressed against my thoughts like breath against glass.

I opened my eyes or perhaps I remembered that I had eyes.

Light surrounded me, but it was not light as I understood it. It was pearl-white, fluid, breathing in slow, deliberate pulses. The walls curved inward and outward, as though the space itself had lungs. Every pulse ...