"Reason?" Anya asked immediately. "What did you find?"
There was no doubt in her voice, only urgency. She did not question whether Ryan was mistaken, only what he had seen.
Ryan hesitated for half a second, then answered honestly. "There are structural deformations in some places. I think that's what triggered the alarm."
Anya's gaze sharpened. "Structural deformation?" she repeated. "You can feel that?"
"Yes," Ryan said. He placed his palm against the cold surface of the reinforced wall again, as if to reassure himself that the sensation had been real. "When I sense the wall, it feels similar to when I sensed the structure of the water bottle. But it's different too. I don't feel resistance the way I did with the bottle, or with the chicken. It's like… I could brute-force it without fully analyzing the structure."
That made her expression shift, just slightly. It was not fear, but calculation.
"To be sure," Anya said, "check the other sections."
She pointed along the length of the wall.
Ryan nodded and moved where she indicated, placing his hand against the surface each time. He closed his eyes, slowed his breathing, and let the sensation from his second heart spread outward. Each contact confirmed what he had already suspected. The feeling was subtle, not something he could have explained in words before today, but now it was unmistakable.
Weakness.
Not cracks. Not damage that could be seen with the eyes. Structural distortion that existed beneath the surface, uneven and warped, like something had been pressing against it repeatedly over a long period of time.
As Anya continued pointing, Ryan's unease deepened.
Every place she indicated felt wrong.
He turned his head toward her, confusion clear on his face. "How can you point out the weak spots so accurately?"
Anya answered without hesitation. "I guessed."
Ryan blinked. "Guessed?"
"The locations I indicated," she continued calmly, "are the containment cells with active monsters behind them."
Watson's eyes widened. "That doesn't make sense," he said. "We have round-the-clock surveillance on the Holding Wing. Internal sensors, external monitoring, multiple redundancies. A monster escaping containment without triggering an alert shouldn't be possible."
Anya shook her head slowly. "It happened. I'm certain."
"At first," she went on, "I thought a single monster inside its cell was responsible. Repeated stress against the walls over time. But the first area Ryan inspected didn't have any monster behind it."
She glanced back at the wall Ryan had touched initially.
"That means the deformation couldn't have been caused from inside that cell," she said. "Which leaves only one possibility."
Ryan frowned. "Someone did this from the outside?"
"Yes," Anya said. "Or something."
Ryan thought for a moment, then spoke again, carefully organizing his thoughts before voicing them. "What if it wasn't trying to escape directly? What if the monster broke the inner walls first, weakening multiple cells at the same time, so it could release the others and escape through the chaos?"
Watson considered the idea, then shook his head. "That wouldn't work in the Holding Wing. Each monster is isolated in a separate containment section. Even if one breaks through its own wall, it wouldn't be able to locate the others. And given the personalities of the monsters we keep here, they would attack each other long before cooperating."
Anya nodded. "That's correct. Coordination between contained monsters is effectively impossible here."
She paused, then added, "But your reasoning isn't wrong."
Ryan looked up.
"Whatever caused this," Anya said, "was attempting exactly what you described. It was weakening multiple containment points, trying to destabilize the entire Holding Wing."
Her tone hardened. "And I'm sure of something else."
Both Ryan and Watson waited.
"The monster responsible is still inside the facility," she said. "It hasn't escaped underground yet."
A chill settled in Ryan's chest.
He stared at the reinforced walls, no longer reassured by their thickness. Just minutes ago, this place had felt safer than anywhere else he had been since his awakening. Enclosed. Controlled. Protected by people who understood this world far better than he did.
Now that illusion was cracking.
He remembered his home. The helplessness. The fear of something lurking just beyond his awareness. He had joined the association because he believed this place was different, because he believed the danger was outside, not here.
If even the Supernatural Association's Holding Wing could be compromised, then nowhere was truly safe.
Anya noticed his expression change.
"Ryan," she said, her voice firm, cutting through his spiraling thoughts. "I know what you're thinking."
She turned to face him fully. "The Holding Wing is not optional. It is one of the most critical facilities we have. What's contained here represents threats that cannot be allowed to roam freely, no matter the circumstances."
She straightened, her posture rigid with authority. "This place concerns the safety of the entire world. It cannot be abandoned, and it cannot be allowed to fail."
Then, unexpectedly, she stepped forward and bowed.
"Please," Anya said. "As captain of the Southern District of the Supernatural Association, I ask for your assistance."
Watson followed her lead without hesitation, bowing as well.
Ryan froze.
He hadn't expected that. He hadn't even known what position Anya truly held until this moment. To see people like them, people who clearly carried authority and responsibility far beyond his understanding, lower themselves before him left him stunned.
He didn't know the supernatural world. He didn't understand its politics, its hierarchy, or its hidden dangers. But he could see the seriousness in their actions.
And he owed them.
They had saved his life. Healed him. Given him answers when he had none.
He wasn't an ungrateful person.
"There's no need to plead," Ryan said at last, shaking his head. "Didn't I already say I wanted to join the association?"
He let out a small breath. "If that's the case, then you're my superiors. You don't need to ask."
Then he added, more quietly, "And you saved my life. I should at least help."
But he raised a hand before either of them could respond.
"I'm not a hero," Ryan said plainly. "I won't fight it. I don't have combat ability yet, and I won't pretend otherwise."
He met Anya's eyes. "I'll help investigate. I'll track the monster using the traces it left behind, whatever deformation or residue it caused. But I can't guarantee I'll find it."
"And," he continued, his voice firm now, "one of you stays with me at all times. If that condition isn't met, I'm leaving."
The room fell silent.
Anya straightened slowly, studying him for a long moment. Then she nodded once.
"That's acceptable," she said.
Ryan exhaled, tension easing slightly from his shoulders.
The reinforced walls loomed around them, silent and immovable.
But now he knew better.
Something inside was already breaking.