I woke up before the alarm again.
Not startled — alert.Like my brain clocked in for work before the rest of me.
The room was dim, but my eyes adjusted instantly. I could see every crease in the blanket, every strand of hair on Tônia's face as she slept sideways, her hand curled under her cheek. She looked exhausted. More exhausted than she'd ever admit.
Alya cried first.Arty followed with his half-grunt, half-whine.
"Já vou," I murmured, getting up.
But getting up was the strange part — everything I did felt… optimized. Smooth. Quick. Like all the wasted motions were gone.
Bottle. Measure. Shake. Test. Done.Quicker than I used to. Way quicker.
I kissed Tônia's forehead before leaving. She didn't wake.
Outside, Lumedal was already noisy, but the noise hit differently.Clearer. Sharper. Separated into layers my brain picked apart on instinct.
I knew the bus would arrive early before I checked the time.I knew a guy two seats ahead would get off next based on how he tightened his grip on the pole.I braced for the brake half a second before the driver hit it.
And the worst part?
It all felt natural.
I muttered to myself, "Isso não é normal…"
The old woman beside me looked up."Falou comigo?"
"Não, desculpa."
At the depot, the manager tossed me a clipboard."Reorganiza a ala de danificados hoje."
Of course.The same aisle where I found the sphere.
My stomach tightened.
Bruno waved me over. "E aí, Giva? Bora começar?"
"Bora," respondi.
We worked side by side, but I kept catching myself doing things I shouldn't be able to do:
• I lifted two boxes at once without shifting my weight.• I stacked crates perfectly on the first try.• I slid a box back into place with precision I never had.
Bruno noticed.
"Carai, mano! Tá atleta hoje, é?"
"Dormir bem faz milagre," menti.
He laughed. I didn't.
The aisle felt heavier today.Like the air carried leftover static from the sphere.
I tried to ignore it — until I heard a metallic creak above me.
I didn't think.I just moved.
A crate slid off the top shelf toward Bruno, who was walking by, clueless.
Time didn't exactly stop — it just stretched.Like the world switched to slow-motion and forgot to tell me.
Bruno's face twisted into fear, frozen mid-reaction.Dust hung in the air as if suspended.
And my body stepped into place without asking my brain for permission.
I caught the crate inches before it destroyed his skull.
Reality snapped back.
Bruno fell on his ass, breathing hard."MANO! CÊ— CÊ VIU ISSO? Tu pegou o negócio no ar!"
I forced a shaky laugh. "Eu… só reagi."
"Reagi?!" He pointed at the crate. "Isso aí é dom, pô! Se fosse tu, virava segurança!"
A stone dropped into my stomach.
Dom?If only.
This wasn't a gift.It was a problem.
At lunch, I barely ate.The food had no taste — or maybe my brain was too busy running scenarios.
My pocket buzzed faintly.The fragment.
I pressed my hand over it through the fabric.
Before I could think more, two men entered the cafeteria.
Clean suits.Polished shoes.Posture of people who didn't work here.
I recognized them immediately.
Auditors.From management.Or worse.
I tried not to stare, but their conversation hit my ears clean as day:
"Restricted storage needs a full check," one said.
"Do they think something was taken?" the other asked.
"If it was… we'll find out."
My jaw clenched.
They were here for the sphere.
I kept my head down, pretending to poke my food.
They walked deeper into the cafeteria, scanning faces with practiced neutrality. One of them let his gaze slide across my table for just a fraction too long.
I exhaled through my nose.Stay calm.Stay basic.Stay nothing.
Back in the aisle, the air felt dense again.The fragment pulsed.
I lifted a box — and before I even turned, a clear image flashed in my head:
One of the auditors, ten steps behind me, pretending to read a clipboard while watching me from the corner of his eye.
I turned slowly.
He stood exactly where my mind pictured him.Exactly the same angle.Exactly the same stance.
A chill ran down my spine.
My vision tunneled — and everything slowed again.
The auditor's head moved in frames, his eyes dragging toward me.A dust mote drifted between us like a falling snowflake.
My pocket vibrated hard — not a pulse.A warning.
Panic clawed at my ribs, but my heartbeat stayed calm, almost forced into rhythm.
I blinked—
And the world crashed back into real-time.
Machines clanged.Workers shouted.Lights buzzed overhead.
I stood there, breath shaking, pocket humming with heat.
This clarity—this impossible awareness—it wasn't free.
And the price was starting to show.