I. Density as Inclination

The Presence That Leaned

Liora entered a space without ground.

There was no ash, no glass, no sky of filaments — only a vast trembling openness.

At first she thought it empty.

Then she felt it.

A leaning.

Not a voice. Not a force. A subtle asymmetry in the openness itself — as if certain directions were already warmer, nearer, more likely to receive her step.

She moved.

The leaning shifted.

Where she turned often, the openness thickened. Where she ignored, it cooled and receded. The space did not command her — it inclined her.

She understood:

Density was not matter.

It was remembered inclination.

It did not decide.

It made some descents easier than others.