Suspended in glittering black, Lafiel was outside of the concerns of gravity. She hovered over the planet, above the wash of the troposphere, clear of the gravitic well that would pull her in and burn her up in the reentry.

She was in space. She was breathing.

Jinnto was not so fortunate. She spied him from the corner of her eye, a heap of brown haired unfortunate everyman hurtling towards the brilliant blue.

She had had this nightmare before. She would reach out and try to catch him and miss by a hair's width.

This time it didn't. Her slender arm shot out and their hands intertwined. She pulled as hard as she could, hearing the rush as the atmosphere rose to meet them. She called his name and it was swallowed on the winds.

Gravity still didn't apply to her so she could stay where she was. He, however, was still being pulled downward. She could not let go if she tried.

Her name on his lips was quickly replaced by an agonized scream. Their hands were bound together like welded carbon. His arm began to pop. Pop pop poppity. Elbow and shoulder joints ripped out of alignment and skin stretched taut.

Obscene cracks appeared in the skin of his arm. First muscle, then sinew, then bone, they all showed. His screams were still swallowed by the wind but his face contorted into an agonized rictus. And there she realized his arm would not come away clean. She could not let go.

She was pulling out his heart.

Lafiel woke up screaming.