The meeting room had no windows.
The walls were lined with sound-absorbing panels, the lighting steady and heavy.Projected slides flipped one after another, the incident broken into fragments.
Timestamps aligned.Movement paths were logical.And yet, no complete story could be assembled.
"The anomaly didn't spread," someone said first."Post-event data is stabilizing," another voice followed.
On the screen was a heat map of the city after the lake-center incident.The curve declined smoothly.The conclusion looked safe.
Marcus Hale remained silent.
He sat at the far end of the table, fingers interlaced.Every word followed protocol, yet the unease beneath his composure continued to thicken.
"So the current assessment…" he finally spoke, his tone deliberately softened, though the weight lingered at the end of his sentence."The process has completed. The aftereffects are controllable."
Jeff's file was pulled up again.
Designation: B-39Status updated:
Not an immediate threat.Potential cooperative value.Requires close-range stabilization contact.Detain if necessary.
Mission P-09 — Aegis — initiated.
Mission parameters were brief:
Approach.Observe.Ensure the situation does not escalate.(Detention authorized.)
Alden Cross read the order.
Professional habit dulled the brief flash of discomfort.This was his job.
He stood at the perimeter of the site, watching the area that had been sealed off—then reopened.
The ambulances were gone.The onlookers dispersed.Warning tape removed.The intersection returned to its old rhythm.
And yet something lingered—a faint pressure in his throat, like a thin splinter lodged too deep to remove.
His hand rested on the communicator at his waist.For the first time, he did not press the call button.
Jeff stood on another street corner.
He felt the density shift—a familiar irritation rising.The same sensation that preceded every source-point fluctuation.The unease of space preparing to misalign.
The city's underlying rhythm began to lag.
Patch stayed close at his feet, ears upright.It sensed it too—the tension in the air, stretched tight.
Jeff turned—
and saw Emilia.
She stood by the roadside, headphones resting around her neck.Their eyes met for a second.
"ARC is moving," she said.
Jeff nodded."I know."
The source point activated without sound.
For a moment, the air seemed forced open.Space stretched—slowly, deliberately—as if a door were about to form.
Roughly a minute later, the distortion stopped.
Jeff's breathing faltered.His chest tightened, synchronization pain cutting deep—every breath dragging with dull, tearing resistance.
His body was adjusting to a synchronization rate no longer human.
Patch hesitated—just half a beat.Then realized the space it could influence had shrunk.
Emilia felt a brief loss of weight.As if standing on solid ground—then suddenly unsure which parts still were.
Across the city, someone paused mid-step.No reason.Just a sense that the streetlights looked wrong.
Alden watched the monitoring data.Everything remained within safe limits.
But his feet did not move.
For the first time, he resisted a mission.
Rowan noticed a non-human break in the data flow.Like a page read—then closed.
In Adrian's perception, there was a moment of blankness—followed by mounting agitation.No violence surfaced, but pressure accumulated somewhere deeper.
The Abyss did not act.But it was no longer entirely still.
Some people remembered details they shouldn't.Others suddenly learned how to overlook important things.
Small changes, scattered through daily life.
Back in the meeting room, the final report page settled on its conclusion.
"Post-lake-center insertion, spatial stability remains intact," someone read aloud.
Marcus stared at the line.
He didn't nod right away.He understood better than anyone—
this stability was bought by a larger cost,exchanged for a temporary breath.
"And if stability fails?" he asked.
No one answered immediately.
That question wasn't something data could resolve.
At last, the observation unit added a note:
If continuous stabilization measures are absent,aftereffects may propagate with delay.Impact levels cannot yet be fully assessed.
The note was marked: Non-urgent.
The cost was already accumulating.