When I woke up, the morning looked normal.
Bratislava was always quiet at this hour…
but today’s silence felt too dry,
as if someone had peeled one layer of sound away.

I walked to the bathroom to splash water on my face.
The moment I looked into the mirror,
I froze.

My shadow… was late.

Not an illusion.
My body was already leaning over the sink,
but the reflection took 0.1 seconds to catch up.
A thin transparent frame flickered around its edges—
like a UI glitch.

I rubbed my eyes.
The shadow snapped back in one clean frame.
A strand of broken text flickered, then vanished.

Great.
And here I thought I was just sleep-deprived.

Patch sat at the door,
not watching me—
watching the delayed shadow.
His ears folded back slightly.
As if asking:
What are you turning into?

I shook my head and grabbed my cup.
Even the rim looked wrong—
as if someone had stretched the pixels outward for a moment
before it snapped back.

“…Yeah, maybe I really do need sunlight.”

I didn’t believe it.
Not even a little.

Worse—
something tugged at my chest.
Not pain.
More like…
a very thin string pulling me gently outward.

Sitting in the room made it worse.
The string urged:
Go out.
Go look.

I sighed and put on my jacket.

“Fine, fine. I’ll go see who’s pulling me.”

Patch perked up immediately, ready to follow.

The stairwell was wrong today.
Every footstep sounded swallowed by the walls.

Outside, the wind blew—
stopped—
blew again.
Like someone was pressing pause.

I reached the street corner.
The sky was a crisp, unreal blue,
but the air felt thin,
like breathing through a filter.

Then—

Pop.

A sharp sound, like a power line shorting.
Nothing around me explained it.

Patch’s head snapped westward.
His ears stood straight,
as if he smelled something invisible.

“What kind of episode are we running today…”
I muttered.

I decided to get a coffee before my brain invented more nonsense.

At the café, a table behind me was already mid-conversation.

“…the lake in Austria is getting weird.”
“You mean the water denting inward?”
“Yeah. It’s not wind. The whole surface sinks in the middle.”
“What did officials say?”
“They claim it’s not weather-related.”

I sipped my coffee.
The bitterness was normal.
The world wasn’t.

Patch stayed under the table,
but he kept staring west—
the same direction those people talked about.

I grew more uneasy.

The tug in my chest pulled again.
Gentle, steady.
Like a distant hand tightening the thread that led to me.

Not pain.
A summon.

Far away.
Blurry.

I tried to ignore it.

Then—
the air flickered.

Not light.
The air downgraded its resolution for half a second,
breaking into chunky blocks
like a video game forced into low quality
before snapping back clean.

Next second—

──────

A low hum rolled up from the ground,
deep enough to numb my ribs.
Glass trembled.
Sand on the sidewalk jumped.

Patch puffed up and skittered backward.

Emilia appeared, looking worse than I did.

“…It pulsed.”
Her voice was low.
“This is too early. It shouldn’t be happening yet…”

The thread in my chest tightened violently—
a burst of fragmented text flaring behind my ribs
before collapsing back into the Source point.

I choked back a breath.

“What the hell was that…”

I clutched my chest, breathing hard.

Once the pulse ended,
the thread began pulling—
faint, directional.

West.

Same direction Patch stared.
Same direction the café conversation pointed.

I stared into the distance.
Nothing there.
Only wind blowing the wrong direction.

But the pull grew clearer.

Calling me.
Waiting.

Back in my room, I checked my reflection.
The corner of my vision tore again—
a UI rip,
like the screen wanted to peel sideways
before sealing shut.

My chest ached deeper.

I pressed a hand to it.

“West… what’s calling me?”

Patch jumped onto the table,
tapping my arm softly.

As if saying:
Get ready.
Whatever it is—
it really is waiting for you.

Creator’s Notes

This chapter marks the first major “pulse.”

The world starts responding to Jeff before he understands why.

Tapas readers usually like atmospheric chapters—this one fits perfectly.