The street didn’t return to normal.
It just slowed down enough to pretend.
People moved carefully now.
Not naturally.
Like they knew something was off—
But didn’t know what.
Ace watched a pedestrian hesitate at a crossing.
Wait.
Step.
Stop.
“…this is going to snap,” she said quietly.
Mai nodded.
“Yes.”
A beat.
“It’s not stable.”
Shammy didn’t look at the street.
She was looking past it.
“…someone’s about to use it,” she said.
Ace turned.
“…how do you know.”
Shammy didn’t answer.
“…because it’s quiet again.”
Two blocks down—
A group.
Three people.
Gear.
Not polished.
Not amateur either.
Fixer-run crew.
One of them held a shard.
Mai saw it immediately.
“…that’s it,” she said.
Ace frowned.
“…they don’t know.”
“No,” Mai said.
“They think it’s just a dead line.”
Ace moved.
Fast.
“Hey—!”
Too late.
The runner slotted the shard.
Activated the line.
No signal.
No response.
No feedback.
Just—
Dead silence.
The runner frowned.
“…what the—”
And then—
Everything slipped.
Not visibly.
Structurally.
The moment before the next action—
Gone.
One of the crew turned—
Too early.
The second raised his weapon—
Too late.
The third—
Didn’t move at all.
The sequence collapsed.
Not violently.
But completely.
One fired—
At nothing.
The second reacted—
To the shot that hadn’t mattered.
The third stepped forward—
Into the wrong line.
Gunfire.
Real this time.
One down.
Second hit.
Third—
Frozen.
Not in fear.
Just—
Disconnected.
Ace hit the scene first.
“Drop it!”
No one listened.
Not because they refused.
Because the timing wasn’t there.
Mai moved in.
Too careful.
Shammy—
Forced the air to tighten.
Trying to anchor something.
Anything.
The runner holding the shard blinked.
“…what was I—”
He looked down.
At the device.
At the channel.
He tried again.
Reflex.
Not logic.
The space broke harder.
This time—
It didn’t slip.
It dropped.
Everyone moved—
Wrong.
Simultaneously.
No sequence.
No order.
Just—
Actions without connection.
Silence.
Hard.
Final.
Three bodies.
Still.
The shard—
Dark.
Like nothing had ever passed through it.
Ace stood still.
“…shit.”
Mai didn’t answer.
She was already processing.
“…it compounds,” she said.
A beat.
“Repeated interaction removes more structure.”
Shammy knelt beside the shard.
Didn’t touch it.
“…it’s not taking people,” she said softly.
“…it’s taking the space between them.”
Ace exhaled slowly.
“…and they collapse into it.”
Mai nodded.
“Yes.”
A voice behind them.
Calm.
Too calm.
“They chose to repeat the action.”
They turned.
He stood there.
Watching.
Again.
Ace stepped forward.
“…you knew this would happen.”
He didn’t deny it.
“Yes.”
A beat.
“I needed to see the limit.”
Mai’s voice dropped.
“…that wasn’t a test.”
He looked at her.
“No.”
A pause.
“That was data.”
Shammy stood.
The air tightened slightly.
“…you’re letting it escalate.”
He nodded once.
“Yes.”
Ace’s grip tightened.
“…then we stop it.”
He tilted his head.
“…you already are.”
A beat.
“But not fast enough.”
He stepped back.
Gone again.
The street—
Held.
Barely.
But now—
It had a cost.
Visible.
Real.
Ace looked at the bodies.
Then at Mai.
“…no more watching,” she said.
Mai nodded.
“No.”
Shammy looked at the space between them.
“…no more contact,” she said.
Silence.
This time—
Heavy.
And earned.
—
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