DataVault

He didn’t come back.

He was there.

The hallway outside—

empty—

then not.

Ace didn’t turn.

She moved.

Turning meant choosing a moment.

She was already past that.

The strike arrived—

not fast—

early.

She shifted—

cut into it—

caught part of it.

Not enough.

The impact slipped past her guard—

too close—

too correct.

He was behind her now.

Not moved.

Reassigned.

“Still behind,” he said.

Casual.

Like he’d already said it.

Mai stepped between them.

Not blocking—

breaking continuity.

“You’re not bound to sequence,” she said.

The figure looked at her—

head tilting—

then correcting—

like the motion had to catch up with itself.

“Sequence works,” he said.

A pause—

slightly misplaced—

“You just trust it too much.”

Shammy drew in a breath.

The air didn’t follow.

It lagged—

then snapped forward too hard.

“He’s off-beat,” she said.

The figure smiled.

Too soon.

“Beat implies delay,” he said.

“I don’t—”

He stopped.

For half a second.

Then continued.

“—need one.”

That slipped.

V pressed back against the wall—

eyes trying to track something that didn’t stay where it should.

“…okay,” they muttered.

“…I don’t even know when he’s talking.”

Ace moved again.

Not faster.

Not cleaner.

He spoke—

and the strike cut through the sentence.

“You’re—”

Impact.

Ace took it—

wrong this time.

Too late.

She staggered—

just a step—

but it landed.

That mattered.

Mai moved—

perfect angle—

perfect timing—

and nothing was there.

He wasn’t gone.

He had already been somewhere else.

“You think forward,” his voice said—

not from a position—

from a moment.

“You wait for things to arrive.”

A beat.

“That’s slow.”

Shammy stepped sideways.

Not toward him—

out of pattern.

The air broke.

Not evenly.

Not cleanly.

The figure paused—

longer this time.

Just enough to see.

Ace caught it.

“Again.”

Mai shifted—

less exact—

less certain.

The space lost its clean lines.

The figure moved—

and for the first time—

it didn’t align.

His hand passed through where Ace had been—

and where she wasn’t yet.

He frowned.

Small.

Real.

“Messy,” he said.

Mai didn’t respond.

“You still need order,” she said.

The figure’s smile flickered—

not gone—

just out of sync.

“No,” he said.

A beat—

late—

“I remove it.”

Ace stepped in.

Closer.

No distance left to resolve.

The figure didn’t move.

Didn’t strike.

For a moment—

nothing connected.

That shouldn’t have happened.

Then—

he leaned.

Sideways.

And the next action—

missed itself.

Not clean.

Not complete.

But wrong.

Shammy pushed.

Not force—

pressure.

The air folded inward—

then burst unevenly.

Timing fractured.

Not just for him.

For everything.

V blinked hard.

“…okay—yeah—that’s—”

They stopped.

“…that’s doing something.”

Mai moved again.

Deliberately imprecise.

The pattern broke further.

The figure tilted his head—

twice—

first too early—

then correcting.

“Interesting,” he said.

“You’re getting worse.”

Mai didn’t answer.

Because worse—

was working.

Ace moved again.

No rhythm.

No repeat.

The strike didn’t line up.

Didn’t resolve.

The figure stepped back.

Not retreating.

Re-evaluating.

“You can’t hold that,” he said.

Calm.

Certain.

“Neither can you,” Ace said.

Flat.

That landed.

The first real contact.

Silence—

not empty—

misaligned.

Then he laughed.

Not loud.

Not sharp.

Off.

Like the reaction came before the reason.

“Maybe,” he said.

A beat—

wrong place—

“But I don’t have to.”

Something shifted.

Not in him.

In the moment around him.

He didn’t leave.

The scene moved on—

and he wasn’t part of it anymore.

V exhaled hard.

“…I hate that.”

The hallway settled—

but not cleanly.

Something lagged behind.

Then caught up.

Shammy let out a slow breath.

The air stabilized—

barely.

Mai didn’t move.

Her focus stayed fixed—

on where he had been—

and where something still wasn’t.

“He isn’t gone,” she said.

Ace nodded.

“No.”

A pause.

“He’s waiting for us to arrive.”

V swallowed.

“…to what.”

Ace didn’t answer.

Because whatever it was—

had already happened.

And they were still—

trying to stand

in the part of it

that hadn’t caught up yet.

—

© 2025-2026. “World of Ace, Mai and Shammy” and all original characters, settings, story elements, and concepts are the intellectual property of the author. All rights reserved.
Non-commercial fan works are allowed with attribution.
Commercial use, redistribution, or adaptation requires explicit permission from the author.

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