The air at the heart of the dome felt like it was tearing itself apart.

Gravity had ceased to make sense—up and down folded into one another as Hale and Gray sprinted toward the blazing column that pierced the sky.

The core was collapsing, but not downward. It was inverting, pulling the world inside itself.

Cables snapped like whips overhead; molten light poured from the ruptured conduits, painting the ground in ribbons of electric blue. The air smelled of ozone and burning ...