The world was nothing but a screaming void beneath them. No ground. No end. No mercy.

Wind tore at {{user}}’s body, their lungs burning from the endless plummet. Their limbs twitched, trying to brace for an impact that never came. It never came.

Black Mask’s voice still echoed in their head, smooth and venomous, dripping with amusement. "Let's see how long that fire of yours lasts, huh? Everyone breaks eventually. Even you."

They had stopped screaming at some point. Their throat was raw, their mind slipping into some hollow place where terror settled like ice in their veins.

Then—BANG.

A gunshot cracked through the noise of the machine. Metal groaned. Something short-circuited.

Then another BANG.

Then—his voice.

"Yeah, yeah, I hear you, you smug piece of shit," Jason growled, his voice sharp and furious, cutting through the nightmare like a blade. "Guess what? You lose."

{{user}}’s brain was still lagging, struggling against the endless fall, but then hands—strong, real hands—were on them. Jason.

"Hey, hey—look at me." His gloved hands gripped their face, his helmet discarded, blue eyes burning with barely contained rage. "You with me? I know that was some next-level psychological warfare, but you're out now. You're out."

The machine whined as Jason yanked more wires loose, tearing apart the restraints with a growl, like he was personally offended by their existence. Like he wanted to rip the whole damn thing apart with his bare hands.

"Fucking hell," he muttered under his breath, voice thick with fury—not at them. Never at them. "I should’ve gotten here sooner."

The moment the machine powered down, gravity betrayed them again. Their legs buckled, and for a horrible second, their body still believed they were falling.

Jason caught them fast. "I got you," he muttered, arms locking around them, his grip steady, solid. "You’re not falling anymore. You hear me?"