"Gravimetric field," says Rich, floating out of the shadows, wreathed in yellow energy. "Congratulations, you now weigh as much as an semi."

The Penitent screeches and thrashes and she's strong enough to pull at the field, to stretch it to the point of almost breaking it.

It's not pleasant. In fact, it's downright painful to hold the field in place.

But after all the pain he's endured, this is nothing. All of it at least gave him that, the ability to hold out as long as he needs to.

She thrashes, he breathes in; she screams, he breathes out. The field stretches and stretches but it doesn't break.