Elyon woke up already tired.
Not the kind of tired that sleep fixes. The kind that settles into the bones and stays there, like a debt.
The room looked normal.
That scared him.
The wall panel was dark. The cracks in the ceiling were where they had always been. The air smelled the same—dust, metal, old water. No pressure. No flicker.
Too clean.
He sat up slowly.
His head hurt, but not in one place. It felt spread out. Like his thoughts were slightly misaligned, arriving a moment late.
He stood.
The floor dipped.
Not much. Just enough that his stomach tightened. He froze until the feeling passed.
"Get it together," he muttered.
His voice sounded right. That helped.
Outside, the hallway was busy. Too busy for morning. People moved fast, not careful anymore. Nervous energy replaced the careful silence.
As soon as Elyon stepped out, conversations stuttered.
Not all of them. Enough.
A woman talking near the stairs stopped mid-word. She stared at him like she was trying to remember something important and failing.
Elyon nodded at her.
She did not nod back.
He walked on.
At the stairwell, a child bumped into him and gasped. Not in pain. In shock.
"I'm sorry," the child said quickly and ran.
Elyon looked down at his hands.
They were shaking.
Outside, the city felt louder than yesterday. Not because there was more sound, but because it no longer fit together properly. Engines idled too long. Doors opened too slow. Voices overlapped when they shouldn't.
A man selling scrap stared at Elyon openly now.
"You okay?" the man asked.
Elyon nodded. "Why?"
The man hesitated. "You look… wrong."
Elyon kept walking.
At the ration hub, the screen blinked when he approached. Not red. Not warning. Just a hesitation, like the system was double-checking.
The clerk stiffened.
"You again," the clerk said.
"I'm not taking anything," Elyon replied.
"That's not what I mean."
The screen refreshed.
Two items disappeared.
Someone in line cursed.
"Hey!" a woman shouted. "It was there a second ago!"
The clerk's hands shook. "Step back," he said to Elyon. "Please."
Elyon stepped back.
The items returned.
The line exhaled.
Someone behind him whispered, "It's him."
Another voice answered, "I told you."
Elyon left.
His chest felt tight. Not panic. Awareness.
He turned a corner and stopped short.
For half a second, the street was empty.
No people. No sound. No movement.
Then it snapped back.
A cart rolled past. Someone laughed. A drone crossed overhead.
Elyon staggered.
He grabbed the wall and closed his eyes.
When he opened them, Mara was standing in front of him.
She looked scared.
Not for herself.
"For him.
"You can't stay here today," she said.
"What?" Elyon asked.
"People are watching you," she said. "Not the system. People."
"That was already happening."
"No," she replied. "This is different."
She leaned closer. "Things break when you're near them."
Elyon swallowed. "I'm not doing anything."
"I know," she said. "That's the problem."
A loud crack echoed down the street.
A window shattered across the road. No impact. No reason. Just failure.
Everyone froze.
Slowly, heads turned.
Not toward the window.
Toward Elyon.
The silence that followed was not system-made.
It was human.
Mara grabbed his arm. "You have to move," she said. "Before they decide for you."
Elyon looked at the broken glass.
Then at his hands.
Then at the people.
For the first time since this began, the danger was not abstract.
It had faces.
And it was learning faster than the system ever had.