The rain hadn't stopped when the man disappeared, as if the city itself refused to close that moment, keeping everything soaked, heavy, dragging the metallic scent of blood and wet concrete through every corner of the alley, and Damián remained there longer than he should have, not out of hesitation, but because his body simply wouldn't respond the way it had before, as if every muscle was recalibrating after being pushed beyond its natural limits, forcing him to accept, even if only for a moment, that he had crossed a line he could never step back from.
His breathing was uneven, deep, carrying that internal burn left by poorly absorbed impacts, but what weighed on him most wasn't the physical pain, it was the lingering sensation of having been evaluated, measured, categorized as something he still didn't fully understand, and that idea, rather than frightening him, settled in his mind like an unresolved problem, one that demanded immediate attention if he wanted to survive the next encounter.
With slow but steady effort, Damián pushed himself to his feet, briefly leaning against the wall as the world steadied just enough for him to move without collapsing, his steps still unstable but firm in intent, because staying in that place was not an option, not when he knew what had happened there wasn't an isolated event, not when he understood he had entered a system where standing still meant disappearing.
[Ability acquired: Flow Reading — Level 1]
The message still lingered in his vision, clearer now that the chaos of the fight had faded, and without consciously activating it, Damián began to notice the changes, subtle at first, almost insignificant, but enough to alter the way he perceived the environment, as if every movement around him left behind a faint trace, a suggestion of direction, of intent, allowing him to anticipate simple things like the trajectory of a falling raindrop before it hit the ground or the shift of a loose plastic bag before the wind carried it away.
It wasn't impressive.
Not yet.
But it was useful.
And in this world, that was more than enough.
The alley seemed empty, silent, but that word no longer meant the same thing, because now Damián understood that invisible didn't mean nonexistent, moving forward more carefully than usual, not out of paranoia but calculation, letting his new perception run in the background while his mind organized everything that had happened, reconstructing each moment of the fight, every mistake, every success, every reaction that had marked the difference between staying on his feet or falling for good.
It didn't take long for him to find it.
The body.
Still where he had left it.
The man he had stabbed earlier, motionless, lifeless, but now… different.
Damián stopped a few steps away, observing him with a level of attention he wouldn't have had before, not out of respect, but because something about the scene didn't match what he remembered, and it didn't take long to identify it, not as a visible physical change, but as an absence, a strange sensation his new perception picked up without fully explaining.
He approached slowly.
He crouched.
And then he saw it.
Not with his eyes.
But with something else.
A trace.
Faint.
Fragmented.
But present.
Like a mark that didn't fully belong to this world, stretching away from the body in a specific direction, fading into the distance like an invisible thread someone had left behind without bothering to hide it.
[Flow Reading activated]
This time the system did respond, not with words, but with a slight intensification of that perception, sharpening the trace just enough to make it clearer, more defined, allowing him to distinguish that it wasn't natural, not wind, not rain, not coincidence.
It was… energy.
And it was being dragged somewhere.
Damián narrowed his eyes, following its direction with focus that ignored the pain in his body, understanding that what stood before him wasn't just a clue, but an opportunity, the first real one since everything had begun, because if that trace led somewhere, if it connected to someone, then it might answer questions the system still wasn't willing to explain.
The decision wasn't impulsive.
But it wasn't slow either.
He stood.
Gave the body one last look.
And then followed the trace.
The city didn't make it easy.
The streets were crowded, noise constant, lights reflecting off wet pavement creating distractions at every corner, but the ability did its job, filtering the irrelevant from the important, keeping that thread visible even as it crossed avenues, mixed with other movements, seemed to fade for brief moments before reappearing with greater clarity.
Minutes passed.
Then more.
The environment gradually changed, leaving behind busier zones and moving into darker, more neglected areas, where fewer people walked and silence began to dominate again, not as the absence of sound, but as a tension that lingered in the air.
And then…
The trace stopped.
It didn't fade.
It didn't vanish.
It simply… ended at a specific point.
A building.
Old.
Worn down.
With dark windows and a metal door that looked like it hadn't been opened in a long time.
Damián stopped in front of it, his gaze scanning the structure while his mind evaluated options, risks, possible outcomes, understanding that whatever was inside wouldn't be simple, wouldn't be safe, but also that turning back now would mean losing something he might never find again.
[Anomaly Zone Detected]
The message appeared without warning, colder than the previous ones, more direct.
Confirmation.
He wasn't wrong.
There was something inside.
And it wasn't small.
Damián exhaled slowly, feeling his body protest at the idea of moving forward, every fiber demanding rest, time, recovery, but he ignored all of it, not out of recklessness, but because he understood that in this world, time didn't always favor those who hesitated.
He reached out.
Pushed the door.
The metal gave way with a low, dragging sound, opening just enough to let him through, revealing a dark interior, seemingly empty at first glance, but filled with a presence that didn't need light to be felt.
Heavy.
Unnatural.
Alive.
Damián stepped inside without looking back, his figure disappearing into the darkness as the door slowly closed behind him, cutting him off from the city's noise, leaving him alone with whatever had been waiting long before he even knew it existed.
And in that moment, in that absolute silence where even his own breathing felt too loud, he understood something.
This was no longer just survival.
It was an entry point.
Into something far bigger.
And far more dangerous.