Then he did something simple—but it worked.
He made a false step. Just a fake version of himself walking sideways, like a trick of the eye. Not a full copy or some perfect double.
More like a flash. An illusion that lasted just long enough to make someone second-guess what they saw. Then it disappeared.
Even the sound of it—the footsteps—landed at just the right moment. Like it had weight. Like it could've been real.
Ardis gave a small breath, almost like a sigh, but not tired. It was more like a quiet nod without using her head.
"Good," she said.
Ethan turned his head to look at her.
"That's not all of it, is it?" he asked.
She met his eyes, calm. "No," she replied. "But it's the beginning."
She took a few slow steps toward him. Not with urgency. Just steady, deliberate movement.
"You're not just learning how to trick people," she said. "This isn't about cheap illusions or playing little games.
