I couldn’t stop replaying what happened on the street.

The delay.
The warped motion.
The way the Abyssals reacted to me, not Emilia.

Even after reaching home, the images flickered behind my eyes like broken frames.

I closed my eyes and breathed in—slow, steady.

(That pull in my chest… it isn’t fading.)

For a moment, the air thickened again.
Not as strong as before, but enough.

The edges of my vision trembled.
A subtle stutter… like the world lagged by 0.1 seconds.

Exactly the same signature I sensed in UFO Park.

“…So it wasn’t an accident,” I whispered.

I raised my hand slowly.

The delay sharpened at the tips of my fingers—
just a faint ripple,
but unmistakable.

Reality paused…
for 0.1 seconds.
Barely anything.

But it was real.

My pulse kicked.
Not fear—
recognition.

(If the anomaly escalates… then I have to escalate too.)

The corners of the room softened,
as if the space itself hesitated.
In that hesitation, tiny symbol-like flickers surfaced—
not readable, not stable,
but present.

I didn’t flinch this time.

I watched.
Measured.
Held my breath.

The flicker held for half a heartbeat.
Then dissolved.

The world snapped back to normal.

My living room looked the same—
lamp, sofa, quiet walls—
but I wasn’t the same.

Something inside me had crossed a line.
Not a transformation…
not yet…

but a step.

A deliberate one.

I sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing my chest where the pull still lingered.

“What… are you doing to me?” I whispered to the empty room.

The pull didn’t answer.
But it didn’t fade either.

Patch jumped onto my lap, staring at me with that same expression from earlier—
the one that felt way too close to judgment.

“Don’t look at me like that,” I muttered.

Patch blinked.

I sighed.

“…Okay. Maybe look at me like that.”

Because whatever was happening—
whatever the Abyssals sensed—
it wasn’t gone.

And for the first time since TESCO,
I wasn’t sure if I wanted it to be.