Gravity is a Suggestion

"Stay away from him, Val," Elias’s voice cut through the static, clearer for a moment. "He’s not... the readings... he’s not human."

Val ignored the voice. She couldn't look away from Caspian. He felt like the adrenaline high she chased every time she dangled her legs off a crane. He felt like the absence of fear.

"Where am I?" Val asked, standing up. She realized the gravity had shifted again; she was standing on the wall of a building now, looking 'down' at the horizon.

"You are in the B-Side of the record," Caspian said, walking up the vertical surface to join her as if it were a flat floor. "The remix. The place where the lost things go."

He reached out a hand. His fingers were long, adorned with rings that ticked like clocks.

"You’re bold," Caspian noted, tilting his head. "Most people scream when they arrive. You? You’re analyzing the architecture."

"I’m looking for an exit," Val lied. She wasn't. She was looking at the colors. For the first time in years, the grey fog of her depression was gone, burned away by the sheer sensory overload.

"Why leave?" Caspian smiled. "Here, the laws of physics are merely suggestions. You feel heavy in your world, don't you, Valerie? Burdened. Here... we float."

He offered his hand again.

"Val, don't touch him," Elias warned. "Your cortisol is dropping too fast. You’re going into shock. Or euphoria. I can't tell."

Val took Caspian’s hand.

The jolt was electric. The world spun. Suddenly, they weren't standing on a wall; they were soaring through the violet clouds. Val laughed—a raw, jagged sound that surprised her. She wasn't falling; she was flying.

Caspian led her across the skyline. He showed her how to shape the reality.

"Think of a bridge," he whispered in her ear, his breath cold.

Val thought of a bridge. The clouds beneath her feet hardened, turning into a crystalline causeway.

"See?" Caspian murmured. "In your world, you are crazy. Here, you are a god."

"I like it," Val whispered. The intrusive thoughts—the ones that told her she was worthless, broken, a burden—were silent. The Zone was too loud for them.

"Val," Elias’s voice was a persistent, annoying buzz. "He’s drugging you. It’s a dopamine trap. Listen to me. The van... I’m running a diagnostic. The elevator shaft is vibrating. You’re physically still in the cage, Val. Your body is seizing."

"Shut up, E," Val muttered. She waved her hand, and the volume of her earpiece dropped.

Caspian watched her do it. His smile widened. "That voice. The anchor. It’s heavy, isn't it? Dragging you down to the mud."

"He's my friend," Val said, but the conviction was weak.

"Friends let you fly," Caspian said. "Anchors just hold you underwater."