While I was busy spinning tales of "Vibrationism" to Lin Yue, the universe was busy proving that a "Normalized" world still has cracks.
In a cramped, neon-lit apartment in the smog-choked Sector 9, a man sat bolt upright in a bed that smelled of damp recycled air. His name was Zhou Min, a low-level data-entry clerk for a logistics firm. He was a "Short-Sync"—someone whose contribution points barely covered the rent.
But as he opened his eyes, the mundane brown of his irises flickered into a cold, predatory gold.
"The anchoring..." he rasped, his voice sounding like grinding tectonic plates. "It feels... different."
Zhou Min—or rather, the fragment of Director Zhou that had survived the century in the slipstream of the Dao—looked at his hands. They were thin and calloused. He reached out toward a flickering holographic lamp. He didn't use a remote. He didn't use an app. He simply willed the light to bend.
The lamp didn't just turn off; the light particles froze in mid-air, crystallizing into tiny shards of luminous glass before shattering.
"Chen Feng," Zhou hissed, a jagged smile spreading across his face. "You turned the world into a clock, but you forgot that every clock eventually develops a friction. I can feel the friction. I am the glitch."
Unlike me, Zhou wasn't interested in balance. He was the "Origin" who had lost everything. He didn't want to maintain the foundation; he wanted to tear the floorboards up and use them to build a throne.
Back in the pristine silence of the 'Wraith', my head was throbbing.
[CRITICAL ALERT: THE ELDER COUNCIL HAS ISSUED A 'FORMAL ENQUIRY' REGARDING THE REDACTED AUDIT.]
[DAO MESSAGE: HOST, WE ARE IN TROUBLE. THEY AREN'T LIKE THE ZHAOS. THEY HAVE ANALYSTS WHO SPECIALIZE IN 'IMPOSSIBLE COINCIDENCES'.]
Think, System, I projected frantically as Lin Yue watched me from the opposite seat. I need an excuse. Something big. Something that makes me too 'unstable' to be questioned.
[DAO LOG: SUGGESTION 1 — TRIGGER A TEMPORARY 'QI-FLU' THAT MAKES YOU PROJECT RADIOACTIVE COUGH DROPLETS? NO, TOO BIOLOGICAL.]
[DAO LOG: SUGGESTION 2 — PRETEND YOU HAVE SUDDEN-ONSET AMNESIA BROUGHT ON BY LUNCH INDIGESTION?]
Those are terrible! I looked at Lin Yue, who was tapping her chin, clearly planning my "social debut" into the high-society circles that the Council monitored.
"Miss Lin," I said, suddenly leaning back and looking pale (which wasn't hard to fake given the stress). "I think... I think the 'Vibrationism' is hitting back. Hard."
"What do you mean?" She leaned in, her Observer sense immediately searching for a shift.
"The grounding... it's inverted," I groaned, clutching my stomach. "I can't be around high-density data centers or... or 'Elder Councils' for at least two weeks. The resonance feedback would—well, remember that bridge? Imagine that happening to my heart."
[DAO MESSAGE: OH, BRAVO. THE 'SENSITIVE ARTIST' DEFENSE. I'LL BACK YOU UP BY MAKING YOUR SKIN TEMPERATURE FLUCTUATE BY 0.5 DEGREES IN AN IRRATIC PATTERN.]
Lin Yue frowned, her disappointment palpable. "You're saying you're too 'fragile' to meet the people who just saved your family from an audit?"
"It's the family curse," I said, looking out the window with tragic longing. "I am a prisoner of my own frequency. I need... quiet. Low-tech environments. Maybe a week of staring at a non-digital pond."
Lin Yue sighed, her sharp violet eyes softening just a fraction. "Fine. I'll tell the Council's liaison that you're undergoing 'medical recalibration.' But Ren... if I find out you're just dodging me to play video games with 'Fatty Bo'..."
"I wouldn't dream of it," I said, even as the System and I began mapping out a route to Sector 9.
I had sensed it. The moment Zhou snapped that light shard, a tiny, jagged tremor had run through the Earth-Heart. The "Glitch" was active. I didn't need a gala; I needed to go find an old enemy before he turned the city's power grid into a weapon.