Cain stared in silence.
A massive concentration of red threads knotted together near the center. Tangled, strained, nearly bursting. Lines snapped and reattached in real time, jittering like static.
"Is that the damage?" Cain asked.
"That's the consequence," she corrected. "Damage is the wrong word. You didn't injure the design. You rejected it. And the design doesn't know how to rewrite you."
Cain pointed at the red mass. "So that's following me?"
"It's anchored to your choices. Every time the Will tries to correct your path, it generates friction. Friction breeds collapse."
Cain absorbed that. "And the anchors… they get crushed because I exist."
"Yes."
"Then fix that."
She stared at him. "That's what I'm trying to do."
The red section trembled violently, sending shockwaves through the surrounding threads. Three smaller strands snapped and disintegrated.
Cain winced. "What happened there?"
