The anomaly wasn't an explosion.
It was a chain reaction.
The first thing to go wrong was the timetable.
The teacher for the third period walked into the classroom and suddenly stopped halfway through his lecture.
He glanced down at his notes, his expression blank for a moment.
Then he turned to the next page and moved on to another topic.
No one laughed.
Everyone realised that the previous page had never existed.
The notice board in the hallway began to refresh.
Several names appeared on the club recruitment list; the handwriting was identical and the format was correct.
The handwriting was identical and the format was correct.
But no one remembered them being there.
When someone tried to ask about them, the person whose name was called looked blank and said, "Me...?"
'Me?'
Their voice was soft, as if they were doubting themselves.
This wasn't a spiritual pressure leak.
This was reality's verification mechanism, forcibly patching the hole.
Li walked through the crowd, feeling resistance with every step.
It was as if the world was trying to push him back into a safe zone.
He saw a junior student suddenly crouch down and lean against the wall.
'My head hurts... Did I forget something?'
The next second, he stood up again, his expression returning to normal.
That blank space had simply been cut out.
In the student council room,
A very slight ghosting appeared in the sky outside the window.
This wasn't a visual problem.
It was time frame desynchronisation.
Her terminal kept ringing.
Warning messages popped up one after another:
[Abnormal Spiritual Pressure Threshold]
[Decreased Reality Stability]
[Intervener Load: Critical].
But she didn't address the most urgent ones.
Instead, she stared at one of them, her fingertips trembling slightly.
[Abnormal Centre: Rei].
The consequences were spreading.
She wasn't the only one in pain.
The entire academy was forced to participate in this favouritism.
The vice president of the student council said in a low voice, 'As expected, if this continues, the ordinary student council will collapse first.'
There was silence in the room.
No one denied it.
After all, someone has already been injured.
Although not fatally, the injuries are real.
There have been instances of abrasions in reality.
'Let's make a proposal,' someone said. 'We should initiate an individual seal assessment.'
Instinctively, all eyes turned to Mio.
She didn't object immediately.
This was the first time.
It wasn't because of hesitation,
It was because she had already foreseen the ending of that storyline: Sealing Li would stabilise reality.
But the world would recognise a pattern:
As long as he was sacrificed, the problem would be solved.
This meant that next time, it would be him again.
"I object."
Mio's voice wasn't loud.
But it was clear.
'Opposing now is pointless; this is for the majority,' said the vice president calmly.
Mio looked up.
For the first time, her eyes held a clear emotion.
Not guilt, not wavering.
But a refusal to cooperate.
'This isn't a problem for the "majority",' she said. 'It's the world being lazy.'
The conference table shook.
It wasn't a slam, just a momentary, slight collapse in space.
Everyone froze.
Mio froze too.
She immediately realised that her state was affecting reality.
Her emotions were no longer contained.
Meanwhile,
Li stood in the courtyard.
Cracks began to spread in the ground.
not outwardly, but converging towards his feet.
as if reality were making a final confirmation.
Should I delete it?
He took a deep breath.
He didn't back down.
Nor did he resist.
He simply stood there.
"I'm here," he whispered. The cracks stopped.
The world seemed to freeze for a moment.
In the distance, the alarm finally sounded.
For the first time, everyone in the academy realised that the price was no longer just one person's problem.
In the student council room, Mio slowly stood up.
She knew there was no next step.
The student council meeting hadn't finished yet.
However, the alarm sounded before the discussion could begin.
A red light swept across the ceiling, but no emergency procedures were activated.
The system was awaiting a decision.
Mio stood up, while the others remained seated.
The others remained seated.
This difference in status wasn't just a matter of posture.
It was a matter of position.
'Mio,' said the vice president, her tone softening. 'Your current state is unsuitable for continuing to participate in the judgement.'
The meaning was clear: remove her from the decision-making process.
Mio didn't object.
She simply placed the terminal on the table.
She didn't unlock it or issue any commands.
The next second, the terminal lit up automatically.
It wasn't that her privileges had been elevated, but rather that they had been ignored.
The screen didn't display an interface,
Instead, it displayed a line of pure white text:
[Intervention Mode: Manual]
[Confirming intervention in the real-world causal chain?]
The air in the meeting room instantly became tense.
'What are you doing?' someone asked, standing up. Mio stared at the line of text.
She knew this was the final prompt.
Once she confirmed it, she would no longer just be an 'observer'.
The system would no longer be there to cover for her.
'I'm just fulfilling my duty,' she said softly.
'Your duty is to maintain balance!' the vice president shouted.
Mio finally looked up.
'Balance isn't about wiping people out; that's just statistics,' she said.
Her finger hovered over the confirmation button.
The screen flashed.
She 'saw' it.
It wasn't the future, but the blank space that was forbidden to be foreseen.
Once Rei had been sealed away, the academy returned to stability and the anomaly index dropped.
After that, the Night Club became the default resolution mechanism, the student council lost its right to intervene, and the world discovered a quicker way to resolve issues.
Delete.
Mio's hand no longer hesitated.
Confirm.
The alarm stopped abruptly.
The entire academy seemed to pause.
The wind stopped, the voices disappeared and even light and shadow froze mid-frame.
This was the price of overstepping boundaries.
She was forcibly pulled into the causal layer of reality.
She wasn't observing from the outside;
She was standing on the event itself:
The courtyard,
was at the centre of the crack.
Rei looked up.
For the first time, he could feel her clearly in reality.
This wasn't a dream, nor was it synchronisation.
She had stepped into his timeline herself.
'Mio?' His voice was strained.
'Don't move,' she said.
It wasn't an order.
It was a request.
Mio raised her hand.
It wasn't a spell or a command.
She simply revealed a hidden aspect of reality.
'The world has always had an option, but no one has been willing to use it.' Her voice was steady.
She looked at the invisible judgement.
'If an anomaly starts to have its own consequences, it doesn't need to be deleted.'
This wasn't a rule.
It was a flaw.
The cracks began to converge in reverse.
They weren't disappearing, but being transferred.
From the academy to Rei himself.
Pain struck instantly.
Rei groaned but didn't retreat.
Mio stood before him.
This time, she was not acting as a shield.
But side by side.
She whispered, 'From now on, you will feel pain.
But you will gain recognition.'
The world began to turn again.
Time thawed.
The alarm system restarted but didn't sound again.
The reality stability index slowly recovered.
The cost wasn't cancelled.
It was simply redistributed.
In the student council room, all the screens simultaneously went black.
leaving only one line of system log:
[Observer status: invalid]
[Intervener: Mio]
[Rule integrity: damaged]
Mio closed her eyes and exhaled.
She knew what she had done.
She had personally crossed that uncrossable line.
When she opened her eyes again, Li had already regained his footing.
He looked up at her.
Not dependence, not protection,
It was finally about standing on the same side. The game had officially entered an irreversible phase.