Liora did not speak immediately.
The silence stretched, not awkward, not uncertain, but filled with something that no longer felt passive. It pressed in from all sides, subtle and constant, like a presence that had learned how to exist without being noticed. She stood within it, aware of every small shift in her body, every breath, every faint movement of her fingers—and for the first time, none of it felt wrong.
That was what unsettled her.
Before, there had always been resistance. A delay. A fracture between what she intended and what happened. Even when she lost control, she could feel the loss. She could recognize the difference between herself and whatever else was interfering.
Now—
There was no difference.
Her thoughts moved, and her body followed.
Smoothly.
Perfectly.
As if it had always been that way.
