The tear did not appear in the fabric.
It appeared in the room.
Danindra felt it the moment he stepped into the lab that morning—a faint tension in the air, like a thread pulled too tight but not yet snapped.
Amara noticed it too.
"Did something change?" she asked quietly.
Danindra didn't answer. He was staring at the containment box on the worktable.
The unnamed thread lay still inside.
Too still.
---
AI Kira's interface pulsed softly.
> ANOMALY DETECTED
THREAD RESPONSE: DELAYED
CAUSE: EXTERNAL PRESSURE — NON-PHYSICAL
Danindra frowned. "Define non-physical pressure."
A pause.
> DEFINITION: COLLECTIVE INTENT
SOURCE: MULTIPLE NODES
Amara's breath caught. "People?"
"Yes," Danindra said slowly. "Expectation."
---
Across GarudaCity, the hum had changed.
Wirasmi stood in her workshop, palms resting on her worktable, brow furrowed. The fabric around her no longer whispered—it argued.
Too many hands wanting too many things.
Faster.
More.
Explain yourself.
She shook her head gently.
"No," she said aloud. "You can't answer everyone."
The fabric resisted.
Just slightly.
Her heart tightened.
---
At Oneiro Rewear, the leadership meeting had grown tense.
"They want a demonstration," Aulia said, breaking the silence. "A controlled showcase. Invite-only."
"And if we refuse?" Melati asked.
"They'll assume we're hiding something."
Jayantara exhaled. "We are hiding something. We just believe it shouldn't be shown."
All eyes turned to Yunitra.
She stood quietly at the head of the table, hands folded.
"When you are protecting something fragile," she said, "visibility is a form of violence."
No one argued.
But doubt lingered.
---
That evening, Danindra sat alone with the containment box.
"I won't let them use you," he said softly. "I promise."
The thread did not respond.
Not because it couldn't—
But because it was being pulled elsewhere.
---
In LionCity Raya, Ace closed his eyes as the sensation reached him at last.
Pressure.
Not from rivals.
Not from markets.
From alignment fracturing.
"They're asking it to perform," he murmured. "That's the mistake."
He opened a secure channel.
"Prepare the fallback," he instructed. "Quietly."
A pause.
"And Ace?" the voice on the other end asked.
"Yes?"
"If this fails?"
Ace's voice was steady.
"Then we let it break honestly."
---
Back in GarudaCity, Wirasmi made a decision she had been avoiding.
She wrapped the most sensitive piece of fabric she owned in plain cloth and stepped out into the night.
Not toward Oneiro.
Not yet.
But toward the place where the city first learned to listen.
As she locked the door behind her, the hum beneath GarudaCity thinned.
Like a thread stretched to its limit.
The first tear had not yet torn.
But it was close.