Third period ended normally.
That was the problem.
By now, something should've gone wrong. A flicker. A warning. A headache that meant the system was paying attention.
Ren felt… nothing.
[SYSTEM STATUS]
Observation complete.
Escalation approved.
The message appeared without ceremony.
Ren stiffened.
"Abinaya," he said quietly, not looking at her.
"When the bell rings, don't follow the crowd."
She glanced sideways.
"…That bad?"
"Worse."
The bell rang.
Students poured into the hallway.
Ren turned left.
Abinaya turned right.
On purpose.
The hallway lights dimmed.
Not flickering—dimming, like someone lowering a veil.
Footsteps echoed.
Slow.
Measured.
Heavy enough to make the floor vibrate.
Abinaya stopped walking.
"…Ren," she murmured.
"There's something behind me that doesn't belong to a day."
Ren closed his eyes.
So it chose her side.
Of course it did.
[HUNTER DEPLOYED]
Designation: CULL-7
Purpose: Anomaly Removal
The Hunter stepped out of the shadow between lockers.
It wore the shape of a man—tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in something that resembled a security uniform.
But its face—
Its face was a receipt.
Lines of glowing text scrolled endlessly across it, listing names, times, and causes of erasure.
Abinaya's name flickered.
Then paused.
"…It's reading me," she whispered.
Ren stepped into the hallway.
Every instinct screamed at him to run.
Instead, he walked forward.
"Hey," he called.
"That one's under my jurisdiction."
The Hunter's head snapped toward him.
Target confirmed.
Pressure slammed into Ren's chest.
Unlike the Observer, the Hunter didn't test.
It executed.
Ren felt his bones scream as gravity twisted sideways.
"Error Archive" — Auto-Defense Triggered
Invoking Fragment: Timeline 4 — 'Borrowed Perception'
Cost: Vision stability
Ren's sight shattered into layers.
He saw the hallway.
He saw the system grid beneath it.
And he saw the Hunter's path—a glowing red line predicting every move it would make.
"So that's how you hunt," Ren muttered.
He moved.
One step—to the side.
The Hunter's strike tore through empty air.
Lockers imploded behind Ren.
Abinaya stared.
"…You weren't there anymore."
"I was," Ren said.
"Just not where it expected."
The Hunter recalibrated.
Text scrolled faster across its face.
Anomaly adaptation detected.
Escalation—
Abinaya stepped forward.
"No," she said.
The word wasn't loud.
But the hallway trembled.
Her eyes shimmered—clear, reflective, deep.
[LIMINAL WITNESS — ACTIVE]
The Hunter froze.
Not physically.
Conceptually.
It hesitated.
"…I can see it," Abinaya whispered.
"The place where it decides things."
Ren's heart pounded.
"Abinaya, don't—"
She looked back at him and smiled.
"That's my job, isn't it? To watch?"
She raised her hand.
The world tilted.
For a single second—
The Hunter saw itself.
And that was enough.
Its body fractured into lines of invalid text, collapsing into static that evaporated like ash.
Silence returned.
The hallway lights brightened.
Students resumed walking, unaware they had just passed through a massacre that never happened.
Abinaya swayed.
Ren caught her before she fell.
"…Did I mess something up?" she asked weakly.
Ren shook his head.
"No," he said softly.
"You just made the system afraid."
On Ren's wrist, the red symbol burned brighter.
[SYSTEM NOTICE]
Threat reassessment required.
World stability: COMPROMISED
Far above—
Beyond the sky—
Something ancient finally opened its eyes.