Floor Sixteen delivered him into open sky.
There was no platform beneath him at all — just wind, and clouds, and a dizzying plunge that his stomach registered a full second before his mind caught up to the fact that he was, quite simply, falling. The wind roared past his ears in a deafening rush, a howl that swallowed every other sound whole.
FLOOR SIXTEEN — OBJECTIVE: LAND WITHOUT FAILING.
No further clarification. Ren's mind raced through the freefall, ground nowhere yet visible through the thick bank of cloud below.
This is a weaving test disguised as a physical one, he understood, forcing calm through sheer discipline. Space Lock isn't just offensive. It's a tool for controlling relative position. I don't need to stop falling. I need to control the deceleration.
