Morning in S-Town was quiet. Quiet like something was watching.
The squad ate breakfast in the courtyard. Lin Lan used the weather membrane to create a temperature bubble— cake stayed warm, tea stayed cool. Zhao Yang sat by the window, blood mist draped like a tablecloth. Hu Hao stirred milk with his consciousness layer. Chen Mo was warming up Phase Five of the Shattered-Time Fist. Lu Ye sat with eyes closed, constructing a backup particle man. Qin Hao polished the crucible like it was a family heirloom. He Xuan sat in the corner, still pale— his time-slowing magnetic frequency made him look like he was daydreaming in slow motion. Zhong Li crouched by the furnace, hugging his knees like life had just punched him in the gut.
"You've been lively lately," said a voice from the wall.
They looked up. A townfolk sat atop the wall, magnetic field stable, eyes sharp.
"You're outsiders, right?"
Zhao Yang:
"We're temporary residents."
"You used the crucible yesterday?"
Zhong Li:
"How do you know?"
"Your courtyard lit up like an ability concert."
Chen Mo:
"What's your type?"
"Taste-type."
Hu Hao:
"You can taste magnetic fields?"
"I can taste your pain from yesterday."
He jumped down, walked into the courtyard, and stared at the crucible.
"You're still using this thing?"
Lu Ye:
"We're just starting to study it."
"You know it does more than swap abilities, right?"
Zhao Yang:
"You know that?"
"I don't. But my brother does."
Chen Mo:
"Who's your brother?"
"Visual-type. He can see the crucible's 'next layer.'"
They paused.
Zhong Li:
"What's the next layer?"
"He says it's 'ability structure editing.' You can break down powers and reassemble them."
Hu Hao:
"Sounds like ability puzzles."
"Also sounds like ability bombs."
He tapped the crucible.
"Who used it yesterday?"
He Xuan raised his hand.
"Me."
"Did you die?"
He Xuan:
"I lived."
"What are you now?"
He Xuan:
"Time-slowing."
"What were you before?"
He Xuan:
"Record-type."
"Can you remember your slowdown process?"
He Xuan:
"I remember the pain."
The townfolk nodded.
"You're interesting."
He left— but didn't go far.
Half an hour later, three more townfolk arrived. One magnetic-fold type, one construct-type, one emotion-resonance type.
"You're outsiders?"
Zhao Yang:
"Temporary residents."
"You used the crucible?"
Zhong Li:
"How does everyone know?"
"Your courtyard's magnetic tremor made our cat ascend."
Chen Mo:
"What do you want?"
"We want to see how you survived."
They circled the crucible. Magnetic frequencies began to resonate.
Lu Ye deployed a particle membrane. Lin Lan stabilized the weather layer. Hu Hao began logging the townfolk's consciousness fluctuations. Qin Hao stood by the crucible like a chef guarding his pot.
"You know what else this furnace can do?" asked the magnetic-fold type.
Lu Ye:
"We're just starting."
"It can compress abilities into temporary skills."
Zhao Yang:
"You mean turn a power into a one-time move?"
"Exactly. Like compressing time-slowing into a 'three-second freeze.' Use it once, then it's gone."
He Xuan:
"Sounds like ability fast food."
Construct-type:
"You can also combine powers. Like blood mist and weather membrane— makes a 'thunderfield in the fog.'"
Hu Hao:
"Sounds like ability hotpot."
They began experimenting.
Lu Ye used a particle man to build a magnetic container. Zhong Li logged the engraving changes. Lin Lan stabilized the furnace temperature with the weather membrane. Zhao Yang stood ready, blood mist coiled like a spring. Chen Mo kept warming up Phase Five.
They compressed He Xuan's time-slowing into a "momentary freeze"—three seconds.
He Xuan tested it. The world stopped. Teacups hung mid-air. Zhong Li's eyes froze mid-blink.
Three seconds later—everything resumed.
"That was amazing," He Xuan said.
Zhong Li:
"You froze my eyes."
He Xuan:
"You're record-type now. You can log the moment."
Zhong Li:
"I only logged wanting to punch you."
They tried combining powers. Zhao Yang's blood mist and Lin Lan's weather membrane fused into "thunderfield in the fog."
Electric mist filled the courtyard. Even the cats wouldn't come near.
Chen Mo:
"Can it hurt people?"
Zhao Yang:
"It can hurt magnetic fields."
Hu Hao:
"And noses."
The townfolk stared, stunned.
"You're outsiders?"
Zhao Yang:
"Temporary residents."
"You're insane."
Chen Mo:
"We're a squad."
They began attracting attention. People brought food. Magnetic field charts. Cake.
Soon, the townfolk dispersed. The courtyard quieted.
Zhong Li sat by the crucible, hugging his magnetic log board, muttering:
"You people… your magnetic fields are more complicated than cake."
Zhao Yang handed him tea.
"You're one of us now."
Zhong Li took the cup, hesitated.
"Do I have to start night shifts?"
Chen Mo:
"You can do them slowly."
He Xuan:
"You can slow down the night."
Hu Hao:
"You can log who steals cake."
Zhong Li didn't reply. Just sipped his tea. His magnetic field settled— like it had finally found its rhythm.
The weather membrane retracted. Blood mist quieted. The particle man yawned on the balcony.
The crucible lay silent in the corner— still digesting today's experiments.
They didn't leave. And no one came to watch.