Adrian couldn't ignore it anymore.
His instincts, the same ones that kept him alive during that massacre, were screaming at him now. Every step beside Camilla felt heavier, more suffocating. Something was off. Something was wrong.
"Well, I have to go to the cabin and get some stuff done for my dad," he said casually, forcing a smile as they left the gun store. "Maybe I'll see you later."
"Oh, I can help if you want," Camilla replied, placing a hand on his shoulder.
A chill ran down his spine like icewater.
He resisted the urge to recoil, laughing awkwardly. "No, it's not necessary. I'll be quick."
She kept pace beside him as he walked to his truck.
Why won't she just leave?
He slid into the driver's seat, tossed his backpack onto the passenger side, and tried the key.
Adrian turned the key again.
Click… click…
Nothing.
He let out a breath and tried once more, this time subtly flicking his index finger on the steering wheel — a familiar twitch he'd grown used to when triggering his ability.
A faint green spark shimmered at his fingertip.
But the truck stayed dead.
No rumble. No turnover. Not even a cough.
"…what?" he muttered.
Camilla was still standing on the sidewalk, watching with that same unreadable smile. Adrian's heart rate spiked. That should've worked.
He flicked again — middle finger this time.
Another glow of green. Still nothing.
It was like… like something was interfering.
Camilla knocked on the window. "Car won't turn on, huh?" she asked, too casually.
"Yup, seems so," Adrian replied, forcing a neutral tone. He slipped the gun into the inside of his winter jacket as discreetly as possible before opening the door and stepping back onto the sidewalk.
He popped the hood, leaning over it mostly to hide the growing panic in his expression. Everything looked fine. Too fine.
"You don't know cars?" she teased.
"I do. At least this one." He shut the hood, jaw tightening.
He could feel it now — the pressure in the back of his skull. Not just paranoia. This was different. Like static crawling under his skin.
His breath came faster, white fog in the frigid air. Sweat slicked his back despite the cold. His heart pounded.
I should shoot her. Right here. Right now.
No. Not in public. What if I'm wrong? What if—
His mind swirled. Camilla's voice felt like a drill in his skull. The world felt distant, like he was watching through a fisheye lens.
You have to trust your instincts, his father had said.
Trust your instincts…
But how could he? His hands were shaking. His vision swam. Reality itself felt thin, like a peeling sticker — ready to come off.
"Hey," Camilla's voice broke through the haze. "Are you okay?"
Adrian blinked. He was drenched in sweat. Had he stopped breathing?
"Y-yeah. Just tired, I think," he lied.
Adrian's boots scraped against the icy road, but the sound didn't register.
It was as if the world had muted itself. He could still see movement — people walking, cars passing, snowfall drifting down like static — but none of it felt real.
Camilla's hand clung to his arm, guiding him across the street. She was smiling, speaking, but her lips moved without sound. The town blurred into silhouettes — people with no faces, colors smeared into a haze of white and gray.
And then something shifted.
Everything stopped.
Completely.
The wind halted. A bird frozen mid-flap hung in the sky like a broken animation. A car sat still in the middle of an intersection — driver caught mid-yawn, mouth open, motionless.
Time had ceased.
Adrian's breath caught.
His heart still beat — slow, loud, echoing in his ears like war drums — but his body wouldn't move. Not fully. He couldn't turn his head, couldn't blink.
His vision darkened.
Red veins crawled across the edges of his sight like cracks in glass. The colors bled away until the world became black and crimson. Desaturated. Dying.
All except for one thing.
A blue light.
It shimmered gently, rhythmically, pulsing like a heartbeat from Camilla's hand — the one touching his arm.
Not ice cold. Not burning. But wrong.
Utterly, unmistakably wrong.
What is that?
His instincts roared. Every nerve in his body flared. He tried to wrench his arm away — nothing. His body betrayed him. He was locked in the moment like a photograph.
It was like being drowned in a memory that wasn't his — submerged in syrup, unable to breathe.
The blue light wasn't just visible. It was the only thing he could feel.
A slow, cold thought crept in through the panic:
She's not just dragging me somewhere.
She's doing something to me.
The light pulsed again.
And suddenly—
Time snapped back.
Sound rushed in all at once — cars honking, voices shouting, a dog barking nearby. Snowflakes stung his face. His knees buckled for a split second.
"—I said, are you okay?" Camilla asked
Adrian stared at her, chest heaving, eyes wide.
She was still smiling, eerily.