The rain hadn't stopped.
It fell steadily over the city, washing over broken pavement, neon reflections, and the faint outline of a boy lying motionless just outside an abandoned building that, to anyone else, looked completely ordinary, as if nothing unusual had ever existed within its walls; but for Damián, reality no longer aligned with appearances, and even as his body struggled to recover, his mind refused to fully shut down, lingering in that thin space between exhaustion and awareness where instinct continued working long after conscious thought began to fade.
His breathing was shallow at first, uneven, each inhale dragging slightly against the lingering pressure in his chest, but gradually it stabilized, not because his body had recovered, but because it adapted, compensating in small, automatic ways that kept him functioning just enough to avoid slipping into unconsciousness completely.
The system didn't interrupt him immediately.
For once, it stayed silent.
Observing.
Waiting.
And that silence… felt intentional.
Minutes passed—maybe more, maybe less—time had already started to lose its precision, blurring into something less structured, less reliable, until finally, Damián forced his eyes open again, blinking against the rain as the city slowly came back into focus, the distant hum of traffic returning, the faint flicker of streetlights grounding him back into something recognizable.
But something was off.
Not in the environment.
In the space between it.
A subtle inconsistency.
A delay that shouldn't exist.
Damián didn't move right away, his gaze fixed upward as he let his perception adjust, letting the remnants of **Flow Reading** and the newly acquired **Flow Interference** settle into place, overlapping in a way that felt unstable but promising, like two incomplete systems trying to synchronize without a clear protocol.
And then—
He saw it.
Not clearly.
Not fully.
But enough.
A faint distortion drifting above him, barely visible, like heat bending the air, moving slowly, almost lazily, as if detached from everything else around it.
[Residual Anomaly Detected]
The system finally spoke.
Soft.
Precise.
Different.
Damián's eyes narrowed slightly, his focus sharpening despite the fatigue as he followed the movement of that distortion, noticing how it didn't interact with the rain properly, how droplets passed through it without resistance, without deviation, as if it occupied a layer of reality that wasn't fully synchronized with the physical world.
—It didn't collapse completely… —he murmured.
That realization mattered.
A lot.
Because it meant the entity—or at least part of it—hadn't been erased.
It had fragmented.
And this…
Was a fragment.
Small.
Weak.
But still active.
Slowly, carefully, Damián pushed himself up, ignoring the protest from his body as he shifted into a seated position, his gaze never leaving the drifting anomaly, his mind already analyzing possibilities, risks, and most importantly—
Opportunity.
If full anomalies had Nodes of Anchorage…
What did fragments have?
[Suggestion: Interaction Possible]
The system didn't force him.
It never did.
But it nudged.
And that was enough.
Damián exhaled slowly, steadying his breathing before extending his hand upward, not rushing, not acting impulsively, but aligning his movement with what little flow he could perceive from the fragment, adjusting his timing, his angle, his intent, until his fingers passed directly through the distortion.
For a moment—
Nothing happened.
Then—
The world stuttered.
Not violently.
Not destructively.
Just… briefly.
Like a skipped frame in reality.
And in that instant, information flooded in.
Not words.
Not images.
But impressions.
Fragments of structure.
Echoes of something larger.
Damián's eyes widened slightly as his grip tightened reflexively, his mind struggling to process the sudden influx, trying to organize it into something usable, something coherent.
[Data Fragment Acquired]
Flow Interference +1
INS +1
New Function Unlocked:
→ Trace Mapping (Incomplete)
The distortion reacted immediately after.
Not with resistance.
But with collapse.
The fragment shrank rapidly, condensing into a single point before dissipating entirely, leaving behind nothing but empty air and the faintest afterimage in Damián's perception.
Silence followed.
Real silence this time.
No pressure.
No distortion.
No anomaly.
Just the city.
And him.
Damián lowered his hand slowly, his breathing heavier now, not from exertion, but from the mental strain of what had just occurred, because whatever that interaction had been… it wasn't simple.
It wasn't just gaining power.
It was gaining understanding.
And understanding came with weight.
—Trace Mapping… —he repeated under his breath, testing the words, the concept, letting it settle into his thoughts as the system reorganized around it.
If Flow Reading let him see patterns…
And Flow Interference let him disrupt them…
Then this…
Was something else entirely.
Tracking.
Reconstructing.
Following connections that weren't visible on the surface.
His gaze shifted back toward the building behind him, now completely normal, completely empty, offering no indication of the space that had existed moments ago, but now, thanks to what he had just acquired, that didn't matter.
Because the anomaly hadn't ended there.
It had spread.
And he could follow it.
Damián pushed himself to his feet again, slower this time, more controlled, his body still far from recovered but functional enough to move, his posture stabilizing as he tested his balance, ensuring he wouldn't collapse the moment he took a step.
The rain continued to fall.
Unchanged.
Unaware.
But to him…
Everything was different.
Because now, instead of reacting to anomalies…
He could hunt them.
[New Objective Generated]
Trace the Residual Network
The message appeared with quiet certainty.
No timer.
No pressure.
Just direction.
Damián stared at it for a moment before exhaling softly, his expression shifting—not into confidence, not yet—but into something more grounded.
Purpose.
—…Then let's see how far this goes.
He took his first step away from the building, not as someone running from danger, but as someone moving toward it, his perception already stretching outward, searching for the next fragment, the next trace, the next piece of a system that was slowly revealing itself one layer at a time.
And somewhere, far beyond what he could currently perceive…
Something responded.
Not immediately.
Not directly.
But enough.
Because the moment he connected to the fragment…
He was no longer just a participant.
He had become…
A signal.
And signals…
Can be tracked.