The package of arcane energies spins through the space between worlds. There is no time here, so it is not quite right to say that this package is lagging its multiversal duplicates, but it is late.
It strains, reaching out for its destination, its recipient, wrapping tightly around her soul —
— and it has just slightly too much "momentum", pulling her free from the cradle of her world and out into what, in some places, they call the Bleed.
The gift and its recipient pop back into reality on the corner of a street, across the road from "Central City Pizza — Try Our Central Pepperoni!". The muted honks of cars compete with the distant sound of cackling.