I wasn’t even doing anything.

Just brushing my teeth.

Then—
the mirror lagged.

Half a second.
Not the reflection—
the background.
The wall behind me blurred for a blink, then snapped back with a faint “tick,”
like someone had just swapped frames too quickly.

Patch shot out from under the bed, nails skidding on the floor.
Her pupils were thin slits.

A second pulse rippled through the apartment.

The Source heated instantly.
Not pain—
more like it had “recognized” something outside the walls.

I walked to the window.
The city looked normal.
Cars moved.
People argued in front of the corner shop.
Nothing exploded.

But the space above the roofs…
was tight.

Like a film stretched too hard.

I exhaled slowly.

“Okay… so it’s not done with me.”

The air near my hand twitched.
Just a tiny jerk in the edges of my vision.
Delay: 0.13 → 0.16 seconds.

Not good.

Patch paced in circles, fur rustling with each pulse of the Source.

The direction was clearer now.
The pull wasn’t vague anymore—
it was a line.

A straight, sharp thread tugging from the distance.

West.

Whatever was waiting there…
it wasn’t backing off.