The bell rang, but Dev barely heard it. Everyone else exploded into movement — bags zipping, chairs scraping, someone yelling about lunch. The usual chaos.
But to Dev, the room felt… padded. As if someone had wrapped everything in thick cotton.
The cracked clock above the board still tugged at him. He could feel it on his skin, the way you feel someone staring at you in a crowd. A tiny pressure, right between the shoulder blades.
Meera nudged him with her elbow. Not playful — cautious. "Come on," she murmured. "Don't give that clock any more attention. It already looks like it wants to bite you."
He gave a weak smile and stood up. His legs felt fine, but something in the air clung to him like humidity that had forgotten it was supposed to be invisible.
They stepped into the corridor. Students swarmed around them, laughing, pushing, complaining about homework — all normal things. Loud, messy, irritating… normal.
Except their echoes were wrong.
Dev's footsteps landed first.The echo arrived just a beat too late.Like someone else was walking a second behind him, copying him badly.
Meera caught him slowing down. "Don't zone out on me," she said, softer this time. "I'm right here."
He didn't answer — not yet.They reached the staircase.
That's where things slipped.
Half the school was crammed onto the steps, moving in a noisy wave. But the stairs themselves felt… still. Like the building held its breath the way he sometimes did when something strange was about to happen.
Dev put a hand on the railing.It was cold.
Not school-metal cold.Not monsoon chill.Wrong cold.Cold like something had drained the warmth out of it.
Meera stepped one stair lower and looked back up at him. "Dev…?"
He opened his mouth. "Something's—"
He didn't get to finish.
Because the world around him wavered.
Not a freeze. Not the big stillness from weeks ago. This was different, thinner, like someone was tugging at the edges of everything — just enough to make the seams show.
Voices smeared.The laugh of a boy on the stairs lagged behind the curve of his mouth.Someone's head turned before their ponytail followed.
Dev's heartbeat kicked into overdrive.
Meera's fingers brushed his wrist. "Hey — hey, look at me."
He tried. He really did.
But something caught the corner of his eye — a patch of corridor darker than the rest. A shape that wasn't a shape. Not tall, not short, not human, but undeniably… aware.
A presence.A stain in the air.A something that didn't belong to light or shadow.
It didn't move.Didn't breathe.Didn't flicker.
But it angled toward him.Not the crowd.Not Meera.Him.
Every muscle in his body locked.
Meera felt the tension in his arm. "Dev…?" Her voice was barely a breath now.
He didn't answer.He just stared.
The smear pulsed — only once — like it inhaled.
And the world snapped back.
Sound aligned.Colors steadied.Air became breathable again.
And the smear?
Gone.Not faded.Not dissolved.Just gone, like it had only ever been a thought he wasn't supposed to think.
Dev exhaled shakily. He hadn't even noticed he was holding his breath.
Meera leaned in, her forehead nearly touching his shoulder. "Dev. What did you see?"
He swallowed.
"A mistake," he said softly.
But he didn't believe it.And from the way her hand closed around his sleeve, Meera didn't believe it either.