High up in the air, consciousness returned to Kelvin like a slap to the face—sudden, disorienting, and accompanied by the unmistakable sensation of traveling at speeds that should have turned him into paste several times over.
His eyes snapped open to find himself staring at an alien sky painted in deep purples and oranges, three suns hanging at impossible angles that made his brain ache just trying to process the geometry. But more immediately concerning was the fact that he was currently straddling the back of Storm, Noah's Hollow Blizzard Monarch Wyvern, who was cutting through the atmosphere like a missile with wings.
"Well, this is new," Kelvin muttered, his voice barely audible over the wind. His last memory was a fusion reactor going critical and turning an entire facility into an impromptu star. "Pretty sure I should be molecularly dispersed right about now."
