The steps were cold beneath Evan.
Concrete pressed through the thin fabric of his jeans as he sat there, unmoving, staring at his hands as if they belonged to someone else. They were still trembling. Not violently. Not visibly enough for anyone passing by to notice.
But he felt it.
The pressure had changed.
Before, it had been resistance. A wall. A force pushed him back when he tried to move.
Now it felt like a leash. Loose. Waiting.
Evan slowly curled his fingers into fists.
The hum responded. Not louder. Closer.
Expectation.
He stood.
The moment he did, the pressure tightened slightly around his chest, like fingers brushing his ribs, reminding him it was aware of every movement.
"Fine," Evan muttered. "I'm standing."
Nothing happened.
Students passed him on the path, laughing, half asleep, complaining about early lectures. One of them nearly bumped into him and apologized without really looking at his face.
Normal life. It felt obscene.
Evan turned toward the boys' hostel and started walking.
Each step felt… measured. Not heavy. Not resisted. Just acknowledged. As if the world was counting.
One. Two. Three.
When he reached his room, he closed the door quietly behind him and leaned his forehead against it for a long moment.
He was exhausted.
Not physically. Not entirely.
Something deeper had been pulled tight and stretched thin.
He crossed the room and sat on the bed, staring at the wall opposite him. He picked up his phone and texted everything the observer said in the group.
Then he tried to sleep. Sleep was not an option.
Rest, Noah had said.Controlled rest.
Evan lay back slowly, keeping his eyes open, breathing evenly, forcing his muscles to relax without letting his mind drift.
Minutes passed.
Then something shifted.
Not the hum, it is him.
Images surfaced uninvited.
Not the nightmare city.
Not the tear.
Emily.
Standing behind the barricade.
Her hands were covering her mouth.
The way she had frozen mid-step, terror flooding her face when his pain spiked.
Evan squeezed his eyes shut.
This is not fair.
The pressure stirred faintly, as if amused.
His phone vibrated.
Once. Then again.
Evan exhaled sharply and reached for it.
Emily.
He stared at the screen.
The pressure tightened.
Not violently.
Warning.
Evan swallowed and answered.
"Hey," he said quietly.
There was a pause on the other end. Then Emily's voice, soft and careful.
"Are you alone?" Emily asked.
"Yes," Evan replied.
Another pause.
"Are you… okay?" she asked.
Evan laughed.
She exhaled slowly. "That's not what I asked."
"I know," Evan said.
Silence stretched between them, heavy with everything they were not saying.
"I keep thinking about what he said," Emily finally murmured.
Evan's jaw tightened. "The observer." He said.
"Yes." She replied.
"What about it?" Evan asked.
She hesitated. "That choosing… shifts the damage."
Evan closed his eyes. "He wanted me to hear that."
"So did it work?" Emily asked.
Evan didn't answer immediately.
He sat up, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor.
"I don't know how not to choose," he said finally.
Emily's breath caught slightly. "Evan…"
"And I don't know how to choose without breaking something," he continued.
The pressure pulsed more sharply this time.
Emily lowered her voice. "Does it hurt right now?"
"No," Evan replied.
Obviously, it's a lie. But Evan doesn't want to hurt Emily.
The pressure reacted immediately.
Evan winced as a spike of pain lanced through his temples, brief but precise.
Emily heard it. She always did.
"You're lying again," she said softly.
Evan swallowed. "I didn't want you to worry."
"I'm already worried," she replied. "That ship sailed when the sky tore open."
A faint, strained smile tugged at Evan's lips.
"Emily," he said. "We need to talk about something."
She tensed. He could hear it in the way her breathing changed.
"Okay," she said.
"The pressure," Evan said slowly. "It reacts to you. To us."
Emily was quiet.
Then, very carefully, she asked, "Does it react because I'm close… or because you care?"
Evan's grip tightened on the phone.
"That's the part I'm afraid to test," Evan said.
Silence fell again. Longer this time.
Finally, Emily spoke. Her voice was steady, but there was something fierce beneath it.
"I don't want to be the thing that hurts you." She said.
Evan closed his eyes. "You're not."
"But I might make it worse, Evan," Emily said.
The pressure pulsed.
Agreeing.
Evan felt something inside him harden.
"No," he said.
The hum sharpened.
Emily stilled. "Evan?"
"No more letting it decide that for me," he said quietly. "If it's going to punish something, it can punish my choices. Not my feelings."
The pressure surged violently.
Pain exploded behind his eyes, dropping him forward with a gasp. His phone slipped from his hand, clattering onto the bed.
"Evan!" Emily shouted through the speaker.
He grabbed the phone again, breathing hard.
"I'm here," he rasped. "I'm still here."
The pressure eased slightly.
Emily's voice shook. "What did you just do?"
Evan stared at the wall, sweat dripping down his spine.
"I pushed back," he said.
The room was suddenly too quiet.
Then another vibration cut through the air.
Not his phone.
The hum.
Different.
External.
Evan froze.
Emily whispered, "What is it?"
Evan's blood ran cold as a familiar sensation rolled through him. Not resistance. Not warning.
Urgency.
"Emily," he said quickly. "Where are you?"
"In my room," she replied instantly. "Girls' hostel. Why?"
Evan swung his legs off the bed.
"Stay there," he said. "Do not leave. Do not open the door for anyone."
"Evan—" she said.
"I'm serious," Evan replied.
The pressure tightened sharply, as if offended.
Evan ignored it.
"I'll call you back," he said and ended the call.
His phone vibrated immediately.
Noah.
Evan answered while pulling on his jacket.
"Evan, I felt something wrong around us. You also feel it," Noah said without greeting.
"Yes," Evan said.
"Location," Noah demanded.
Evan closed his eyes, focusing past the hum, past the noise, letting the strange awareness stretch outward.
A flicker.
A point of imbalance.
"North wing," Evan said. "Second floor. Science block."
Noah swore softly. "That's still occupied."
"I know," Evan replied.
Marcus's voice came through faintly in the background. "What are we dealing with?"
Evan didn't hesitate.
"Something smaller," he said. "But faster."
Luke cut in. "Please tell me this is not another sky hole."
"No," Evan replied. "This one moves."
The pressure surged eagerly.
As if pleased.
Evan ran.
The campus blurred again as he sprinted, lungs burning, heart hammering. The pressure flowed with him now, not against him. Not helping.
Accompanying.
When he reached the science block, the lights were still on inside.
Too many of them.
Evan slowed at the entrance.
The hum sharpened.
He stepped inside.
The air was cold.
Not naturally.
Footsteps echoed faintly down the hallway.
Evan followed the sound, every nerve screaming.
He rounded the corner and stopped.
At the far end of the hall, something crouched near an open classroom door.
It was not a shadow. It had weight and mass.
Its shape was wrong. Limbs bent at angles that made Evan's stomach twist. Its surface rippled like heat haze, flickering between solid and translucent.
A student lay unconscious on the floor nearby.
The thing lifted its head.
And looked directly at Evan.
The pressure slammed into him.
Not punishment.
Recognition.
"You're early," it whispered.
Not with a mouth.
With intent.
Evan clenched his fists.
"Get away from them," he said.
The thing tilted its head, mimicking the observer's earlier gesture.
"You interfere again. The response will escalate," it said.
Evan stepped forward.
The ground resisted slightly.
Not enough.
"Then escalate," Evan said.
The thing moved very fast.
It lunged toward him, crossing the distance in a blink.
Evan reacted without thinking. He pushed down.
The air compressed violently beneath the creature, slamming it into the floor with a thunderous crack. Tiles shattered. Dust exploded upward.
Evan staggered, blood pouring freely from his nose now.
The pressure screamed.
The creature shrieked, its form destabilizing, flickering wildly.
Evan forced himself forward, each step agony.
"You don't get to decide who I save," he growled.
He raised his hand again.
The pressure fought him harder this time.
Bones creaked.
His vision blurred.
Still, he pushed.
The creature collapsed inward, folding in on itself until it vanished with a sharp implosive snap, leaving behind nothing but cracked tiles and ringing silence.
Evan dropped to one knee, gasping.
Alarms began to sound.
Footsteps pounded in the distance.
Marcus burst around the corner first, followed by Luke and Noah.
They froze at the sight of Evan kneeling amid the wreckage.
Luke stared. "Okay. That one definitely looked personal."
Noah rushed to Evan's side, careful not to touch him. "How bad."
Evan wiped his face with shaking hands.
"I acted," he said hoarsely.
The pressure lingered. Sharper. More alert.
Noah's eyes were wide. "And the response."
Evan looked up.
Above them, the lights flickered.
Once. Twice. Then steadied.
The hum softened.
Marcus exhaled slowly. "You stopped it."
Evan shook his head faintly.
"No," he said. "I delayed it."
His phone vibrated in his pocket.
Unknown number.
A new message appeared on the screen.
Unauthorized intervention detected.
Response parameters adjusted.
Evan closed his eyes.
Somewhere across campus, Emily sat alone in her room, waiting for his call.
And Evan understood, with chilling clarity, that every step toward her would now be measured. Counted. Punished.
But as the pressure tightened around him once more, one truth burned brighter than the pain.
If standing still had a cost…
Then moving forward was the only choice he had left.