The Triangle didn't react right away.
That, more than anything else, confirmed Dreyden had crossed another threshold.
When institutions panicked, they flooded the system with rules. When they felt threatened, they tightened control. When they were unsure—
They waited.
Dreyden felt that waiting everywhere the next morning.
Not as pressure.
As drag.
His interface opened a fraction slower. Not enough to flag as lag, but enough to notice if you were looking for it. Doors scanned twice before unlocking. Training schedules populated with redundancies—backup rooms, alternate time slots, overlapping instructor assignments.
The Triangle was adding friction.
Not to stop him.
To feel him.
He dressed, left his room, and moved through the corridor like the day before—unremarkable, controlled, readable on the surface. Students still parted. Still avoided eye contact. Still pretended he wasn't there unless pretending cost more than acknowledging him.
All normal.
