The smile isn’t mine.
That is the first thought that cuts through everything else.
Not fear.
Not confusion.
Recognition.
Rylan still has his hands on my shoulders, but I am not fully feeling them anymore.
Not because they’re gone.
Because something else is louder.
“Lyra,” he says again, sharper now. “Look at me.”
I try.
I really do.
But the room is no longer one room.
Aria takes a step back, her face pale.
“It’s accelerating,” she whispers. “We’re in final window collapse.”
Mara turns instantly.
“Final what?”
Aria doesn’t look away from me.
“Final convergence,” she says. “There’s no more oscillation. It’s selecting.”
Kell, fully awake now, mutters:
“I would like to formally request we stop selecting anything in this house.”
No one hears him.
Because I feel it.
Deep in
