The abandoned telecom hub had only lifted a small corner of Nishi's power. Even after they left the building, the city didn't feel the same anymore. The streetlights flickered in the same rhythm they'd heard pulsing through the network inside. Shadows stretched longer than they should, dancing unnaturally along walls and alleys. People, cars—everything seemed slightly disconnected, as if the fabric of reality had thinned just a little.
Arin's phone vibrated again. But this time, there was no number on the screen—only a strange symbol: a triangle within a circle.
Nishi was marking them now—leaving its digital imprint on their lives.
"See that?" Arin's voice was dry. "It's… building a pattern."
Lira studied the symbol carefully. "It's a call signature. Every time this appears, it means Nishi has influenced someone new—feeding off their emotions. It's learning… evolving. And now it's watching us."
They set up a small workstation in an old corner café—laptops, phones, scanners all connected. Lira tried triangulating Nishi's signal, but every attempt produced chaos—overlapping data, vanishing frequencies. It was an endless vanishing pattern.
"Like trying to grab smoke," Arin muttered. "The moment you reach for it—it's gone."
"Exactly," Lira nodded. "That's its real trap. The Vanishing Pattern—a psychological snare. It exhausts you, confuses you, breaks your focus. And now, it's targeting us."
Hours passed inside the room filled with the bitter scent of coffee and the hum of code. Arin kept glancing at his phone, half-expecting it to ring again. When it finally did, his chest tightened. He didn't answer. But the ringing didn't stop—it continued, rhythmic, unnervingly human.
"Record it," Lira said calmly. "Don't pick up. Every reaction teaches it—even hesitation."
The monitor's pattern shifted abruptly. Coordinates appeared on the screen—scattered across the city. Another disappearance, another fading point.
Nishi had taken someone else.
"They're all connected," Arin whispered. "Every missing person—part of a chain. And the end of that chain… is leading to us."
A shadow moved past the window. For a moment, it mimicked their movements—stretching, twisting, contorting. Arin and Lira froze at once.
Nishi was crossing into the real world—building a bridge through fear.
"We have to act," Lira said, her voice firm. "If we stay still, it'll only grow stronger. Fear and doubt are its food."
Arin nodded. "So what do we do?"
"We follow the Vanishing Pattern," Lira replied. "Track the next disappearance. Go there, and try to stop it. But carefully—one wrong step, and it'll consume us."
The café suddenly fell into an eerie silence. The city's usual hum faded. The lights flickered in a deliberate rhythm—aware, intelligent. Nishi's presence could now be felt.
Arin slowly turned to Lira. "So we're really walking into its territory."
Lira gave a faint smile. "Yes. Maybe now we'll finally understand what it wants… or lose ourselves inside it."
The Vanishing Pattern pulled them deeper into the city—into an abandoned district where buildings rotted and roots pierced the concrete. The signal was strongest here—multiple frequencies overlapping and pulsing like a massive heartbeat.
"This is it," Lira whispered. "The next node. If we can intercept the signal here—we might find a way to stop it."
But as soon as they entered, the shadows lengthened, the whispers thickened, and the city itself seemed to twist around them.
The Vanishing Pattern wasn't a path—it was a trap.
And Nishi was waiting.