The world didn't glitch when we stepped out of the courtyard.
It bowed.
Not visibly.Not dramatically.Just that subtle pressure again — the quiet tilt of reality that followed my footsteps like a dog trying not to look trained.
The wind moved first, drawing a soft arc around me before dispersing into the afternoon heat.Then the shadows aligned — trees, traffic lights, even the shape of a distant overpass straightened itself a fraction to face me.
Not threatening.Not reverent.
Just inevitable.
Like a story spine realigning around its protagonist.
The girl shivered violently.
"It's worse now," she whispered. "Everything is leaning toward you."
I looked around.
She was right.
Even the dust in the sunlight drifted in my direction, suspended for a heartbeat before gravity reclaimed it.
"I'm not making it happen," I said. "The world is."
"I know," she said weakly. "That's what scares me."
✦
We walked.
Or rather — I walked, and reality followed.
