Patch reacted first.
No sound.No warning.
Only the slow rising of every hair on his back…as if each strand was decoding something the world was trying to hide.
His eyes never left the ground.
Not the lake.Not the trees.
The ground—as though something beneath the soil was breathing in sync with mine.
I heard nothing.
Alden heard it.
He lifted his head slightly.So small a movement most people would miss.
"That's not the lake," he murmured.
I swallowed.
"What is it?"
His gaze shifted to the space behind me—close enough to make every muscle lock tight,yet avoiding my shadow entirely.
"Your second layer," he said quietly,"is starting to resume its scan."
Patch hissed.
Not at Alden.Not at me.
At the empty gap between our feet.
A gap that looked normal…but felt like it had been measured twiceand printed wrong.
The air trembled.
Alden didn't step back.He only muttered, almost to himself:
"…It shouldn't be reacting this early."
My chest tightened.
That force inside me pulled—not forward this time…but inward,folding me around a point I couldn't see.
The trees didn't move.
My shadow did.
Patch pressed a paw against my shoe,a tiny, sharp warning:
Stay.Right here.Right now.
And in that instant,the world obeyed.