When the lake lit up, the light didn't rise.
It locked on.
It surged upward like something was pushed from the bottom, breaking the surface in a thin white ring.The pull hit my chest instantly—clean, precise, like it had coordinates.
My vision washed out.The air turned too clean, stripped of humidity.The inside of my nose felt filtered, like the world lost one layer of texture.
My heartbeat slipped half a beat off rhythm—then was dragged back by something syncing with it.
Patch crouched low, a short growl caught in her throat, staring at my hand.Her fur stood in the wrong direction, like the light itself pushed against it.
Alden's voice stayed steady, as if he was reading a number he already expected.
"Matching is jumping."
The lake flashed again—short, sharp, like a high-frequency data extraction.
My mind "pinged."The point in my chest flicked like someone tapped it from the inside.
A faint number floated across my vision:
67.4%
Patch's growl snapped off.A weight lifted from the ground beneath my feet—only half a step, but enough for me to feel the slip.
ARC's tower across the shore pulsed a red line upward, updating a layer before retracting.On a distant building, a strip of dark reflection glided across the glass at an unnatural angle.
That wasn't ARC.It felt like another set of rules—another gaze.
Emilia's phone buzzed.She glanced at the screen.Her fingers curled, covering it fast—half a second, and her entire face shifted.
The lake dimmed.
Patch's growl lowered, fur reacting like pulled by a backward current.Not fear—resistance.Something was trying to align itself to me.
Alden watched the movement at my chest.
"It feels you syncing."
The third flash wasn't bright—it was stretched thin, like the surface was about to crack.
The lakebed pushed outward.A dark "shadow-line" carved itself along the bottom, rising without ever forming a body.
Patch lunged against my leg, barking low and sharp.The ground vibrated with it.
Emilia inhaled, voice almost a whisper:
"If the read-write point climbs one more tier, we have to enter the lake.If we wait, it'll open by itself."
The brightness froze—like the frame got stuck half a step before the next beat.
Then—
The lake center sank an inch.
A line of air pulled outward from the depression, expanding in every direction.
Alden's brow tightened, his voice cutting straight through the moment:
"It's early.The entry point is forming."
The entire lake dimmed—as if the next flare would rip the seam wide open.