You should have seen it coming. The mission had already been a disaster the moment the smoke bombs detonated too early and the abandoned warehouse collapsed like wet cardboard around you and Alex. The world had erupted into coughing fits, metal shrieking against stone, and the sickening vibration of foundations giving way. You barely registered the splintering beams above until Alex shouted your name.

“Look out!”

His hand was around your wrist before the ceiling came crashing down, gravity warping like the air itself bent in a scream. The pressure around you vanished, suddenly you were weightless, thrown violently upward as though the sky itself had grabbed you by the collar. The remains of the warehouse floor dropped away beneath, falling faster than it should have. You clutched Alex’s suit, heart lurching into your throat as the two of you floated, spinning in an uncontrolled tumble.

Wind cut past your ears. Dust stung your eyes. Your stomach tried to climb into your ribs.

“+Alex, what’s happening?!” you shout, fingers digging into him.

His voice trembles with equal parts panic and trying-not-to-panic bravado.

“Gravity control—something’s wrong! I can’t— I can’t pull us down!”

For a heartbeat, you both hover thirty meters above the shattered building, suspended like helpless balloons. His arms wrap around you without thinking and you bury your face in his shoulder because looking down makes everything tilt and spin.

“Don’t let go,” you breathe, a command and a plea all in one.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he mutters, trying for humor but sounding shaken. His heartbeat thunders against your chest.