The sky looked bruised when Kayden stepped outside after class—clouds dragging slowly like they were carrying a weight he could feel but not explain. He rubbed the corner of his left eye again. The silver tint hadn't grown, but it hadn't faded either. It sat there quietly, a reminder that the thin line was following him now.
He didn't want to go back to the dorm.He didn't want Alex to see him flinch every time the world rippled.He didn't want Phineas asking pointed questions.
He just wanted silence.Somewhere the world stopped pulling on him.
Kayden headed toward the old engineering building behind the sports ground—a quiet, aging structure everyone avoided. He'd discovered it years ago when he still liked being invisible.
The moment he entered the hallway, he felt it again.
A small jolt.Like a static shock, but inside his skull.
"Not now," he muttered under his breath.
But the pressure deepened.It wasn't pain—more like someone had pressed a thumb against the back of his consciousness, not hard, just enough to make him aware.
A faint voice followed.
"Commander… anomaly echo nearby."
Kayden closed his eyes. "Define nearby."
"Eight meters."
His heart tightened.That was too close.
He walked further down the hall, each step measured. The old building creaked under his weight, dust hanging in the air like fog. A flickering fluorescent light hummed above him.
Nothing looked unusual.
But everything felt wrong.
He stopped near a half-open classroom door.The pressure behind his eyes sharpened—direct, pointed.
"Here?" he whispered.
"Yes."
Kayden pushed the door open.
The empty room stretched in front of him—rows of old chairs, a blackboard coated with chalk dust, windows smeared with fingerprints of years past.
And in the center of the room, the air bent.
Not visibly.Not dramatically.
Just… wrong.Like heat rising off a road, except the room was cold.
Kayden stepped closer.
His heartbeat slowed without his permission.His breathing steadied.Something in him was reacting—instinct, or something deeper.
He reached out a hand.
The distortion didn't lash out.It didn't expand.It didn't form anything recognizable.
It simply reacted.
A tiny pulse, like a heartbeat inside the air, brushed his fingertips.Light enough that anyone else would have missed it.
Anyone but him.
He recoiled slightly, breath sharp. "You're getting bolder."
The system's voice returned, softer now, almost careful:
"Commander… the anomaly layer is testing proximity.It is aware of your presence."
Kayden swallowed."That doesn't help."
"It will not harm you."
He let out a hollow laugh. "You can't guarantee that."
"…Correct."
The distortion flickered—one brief shimmer—and then faded into nothing, leaving the air plain and unmoving again.
But the pressure in Kayden's skull didn't disappear.It lingered, dull but constant, like a headache born from a place deeper than nerves.
He stepped back from the room, shutting the door slowly.
As he walked down the hall, he heard hurried footsteps echoing behind him.
"Kayden!"
Phineas.
Kayden stiffened. He didn't want company. Not now.
Phineas jogged up, breathing slightly hard, eyes sharp with focus. "I've been looking for you."
Kayden kept walking. "Why?"
"Because you bailed after class. And because you've been acting like a damn ghost."
Kayden sighed. "I needed space."
Phineas caught his arm and turned him around. "Yeah, I can see that. But you need to stop pretending I didn't watch something impossible happen that day."
Kayden looked away. "You wouldn't understand."
"Try me."
The hallway felt too narrow, the air too close.
Kayden studied Phineas for a moment—the stubborn set of his jaw, the frustration in his eyes, the faint concern he refused to show openly.
"He saw nothing," Kayden told himself."He can't feel what you feel. He doesn't know the line is thinning."
But Phineas didn't break eye contact."Kayden… something's wrong with you."
Kayden felt a flicker of annoyance. "Nothing is wrong."
Phineas stepped closer. "Then look me in the eye and say that."
Kayden hesitated.
And Phineas noticed the faint silver shimmer immediately.
His expression changed.Not fear.Not disgust.
Just realization.
"…That wasn't there before," he said quietly.
Kayden's chest tightened. "It's nothing."
"No," Phineas said, shaking his head. "It's something. And you're scared of it."
Kayden felt anger rise—not at Phineas, but at how exposed he suddenly felt. "I'm not scared."
"You are," Phineas said simply. "I can see it."
Kayden clenched his fists, looking away.He didn't want this conversation. Not here. Not now.
But the thin line pulsed again—rising, just for a moment—and Kayden's breath hitched.
A tremor ran through the hallway floor.
Phineas grabbed the wall for balance. "What was that?"
Kayden stayed silent.
Phineas stared at him."It's connected to you, isn't it?"
Kayden didn't answer.
He didn't have to.
Phineas saw the truth in his silence.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Phineas stepped back, voice steady but low."…Whatever's happening, I'm not walking away."
Kayden's head snapped up.
Phineas continued, eyes firm."You tried to push me out last time. I'm not letting you do that again."
Kayden felt something shift in his chest—a mixture of relief and dread.The world was tightening around him, pulling him toward something he didn't understand.
But he wasn't alone.
Not anymore.
The thin line trembled one last time, then went quiet.
Kayden exhaled.
"Fine," he said. "But stay close. And don't do anything stupid."
Phineas smirked. "When do I ever?"
Kayden didn't answer.
They walked out of the building together—two figures stepping toward a world only one of them could truly feel cracking at the edges.
But the pressure wasn't gone.
And Kayden knew:
This was only the beginning of the line thinning.