Toasted_ballz



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    “Will,” El says gently, moving back into his space. “Your nose.”

    He’s suddenly aware of the warm sticky feeling on his upper lip, and when he wipes a hand under his nose his fingers come away wet and red.


    He’s about to reply when a chime rings in his ears, so loud it echoes inside his head, and he startles. “What the hell?”

    Max’s gaze snaps to him. “What’s wrong?”

    He frowns at her. “Did you hear that?”

    Her eyes widen, her entire body going tense. “Hear what? Was it a clock?”

    Oh, shit. “Is this one of the—”

    He never finishes the sentence, because in the next moment, searing pain blooms in his head, far worse than any of the migraines he’s been getting since he crossed the Indiana border. It’s so intense that he staggers, vision whiting out, and he’s pretty sure he’s curled up on the ground—he can’t be sure; the world has blended sound and image and light and his mind is scrambling to make sense of it.

    Don’t be afraid, someone says, but Will shies away from the voice, pressing the heels of his palms into his eye sockets. Welcome home.

    Language:
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    07 Mar 2026