The man stepped off the curb.
Traffic flowed around him without slowing, horns blaring as cars swerved just enough to miss him. He didn't react. Didn't hurry. His movements were unbothered, almost serene, as if the world had already decided to make space for him.
Liora couldn't look away.
His eyes were wrong not empty like the enforcer's, not cold like the watchers on campus. These were… distant. Like he was listening to something she couldn't hear.
"Don't move," Aiden said under his breath.
Too late.
The man stopped a few feet in front of them. Up close, he looked ordinary mid-thirties, neatly dressed, faint lines around his eyes like someone who smiled often. But the air around him felt thin, stretched tight.
"Excuse me," he said pleasantly, his gaze settling on Liora. "Do you have the time?"
Her stabilizer burned.
A sharp pulse shot through her palm, and with it came the sensation that tug, that hollow pressure behind her eyes. She saw it then, faint but undeniable: threads stretching from the man outward, dissolving as they touched other people. Connections unraveling. Names loosening.
He was already fading.
"Don't answer," Aiden warned.
Liora swallowed. Her heart hammered so loudly she was sure the man could hear it.
"I'm sorry," she said instead, voice shaking. "I don't."
For a moment, the man just stood there.
Then he blinked.
Confusion flickered across his face. "Oh," he said softly. "That's strange."
The threads snapped.
He staggered, hand flying to his head. A woman nearby reached out instinctively. "Sir? Are you okay?"
He looked at her like she was a stranger. "Do I… know you?"
Panic rippled through the small crowd. Someone laughed nervously. Someone else pulled out their phone.
"No," Seren muttered. "No, no this is too public."
The man's knees buckled.
Liora moved without thinking.
She stepped forward and grabbed his arm.
The contact was instant and overwhelming.
The world fractured.
She saw his memories collapsing in real time: a kitchen filled with morning light, a child's laugh, a name slipping through his fingers like water. The erasure wasn't targeting him it was using him. A live demonstration. A warning.
This is what happens when you interfere.
Liora gasped, pain tearing through her skull, but she held on. She focused on the weight of his arm, the sound of his breathing, the simple undeniable fact that he existed.
The pressure resisted her.
Pushed back.
Then hesitated.
The man sucked in a sharp breath, eyes clearing just enough for awareness to return. "I... I was waiting for the bus," he said, confused. "I think."
Aiden was beside her instantly, gripping her shoulder. "That's enough. Let go."
She did.
The man swayed, but stayed upright. The woman guided him back toward the bench, still talking, still grounding him in reality.
Around them, life resumed. Uneasy, but moving.
Liora staggered back, legs weak.
Seren stared at her, something raw flashing across her face. "You just challenged a live correction," she said quietly. "Do you have any idea what you just did?"
Liora's vision swam. "I didn't let them take him."
"No," Aiden said, voice low. "You didn't."
He looked around at the street, the people, the watchers who were no longer even pretending to hide.
"But you just told them you're willing to fight in the open."
A chill settled over Liora as the weight of it sank in.
This wasn't about hiding anymore.
This was about defiance.
And the city had noticed.