Not a question. A landing — the particular mental sensation of an expectation confirming itself, the recognition of a thing you've been moving toward for a long time finally appearing in front of you as itself rather than as its description.
The door to the other side. The artificially created world. The one-way architecture of it, built so that it opened outward and only outward, so that anything entering from this side could pass through but anything on the other side trying to come back—
He breathed.
His chest expanded and fell.
He took a step toward the door.
And stopped.
Because of the figure in front of it.
She was on her knees.
