The presence did not leave.
It lingered beyond the boundaries like a held breath, neither pressing nor fading—simply there.
Rehaan paced the outer rise, jaw tight. "They're good," he muttered. "Better than they were before."
"Better at what?" Ira asked.
"Listening," he replied. "To things that don't want to be heard."
Devansh stood motionless, awareness spread through the city like a net. "They are not testing the barrier," he said. "They are mapping responses."
Ira's chest tightened. "Then we need to stop responding."
Rehaan glanced at her sharply. "You already are."
She met his gaze. "Then teach me how not to."
Silence fell.
Devansh's attention turned to her. "You cannot un-become what is awakening."
"I'm not trying to," she said. "I'm trying to choose how it shows."
Rehaan exhaled slowly. "They're not following the city," he said. "They're following you."
The words settled heavily.
She did not deny them.
"What happens when they get closer?" she asked.
Rehaan's mouth curved faintly. "They won't come with armies. They'll come with instruments."
The air rippled faintly again, as if something beyond it had shifted its attention.
Ira closed her eyes.
Inside her, the heaviness stirred—not urgently, but attentively.
She felt threads stretching outward—delicate, layered, searching.
"They're reading emotional distortion," she murmured. "Not location. Impact."
Devansh's gaze sharpened. "Then we alter the impact."
She opened her eyes. "You mean… hide me?"
"No," he replied quietly. "Reframe you.".