No monster.
But Ethan didn't relax.
The absence felt deliberate.
Behind him, the injured man laughed weakly—a wet, broken sound that made Ethan's stomach twist.
"You learned fast," the man said. "That thing feeds on awareness."
Ethan crouched beside him, forcing his focus away from the alley's depths. "Feeds how?"
The man coughed, blood staining his lips. His eyes flicked nervously toward the alley entrance, as if afraid it might reappear the moment he acknowledged it.
"By being seen," he said. "By being recognized."
Ethan frowned. "That makes no sense. If it needs to be seen, why attack people who can see it?"
The man's smile was bitter.
"Because once you notice it," he said softly, "you don't get to stop."
Ethan felt a chill crawl down his spine.
"Then why didn't it attack me?" he asked.
The man met his gaze.
"It did," he said. "You just survived the first look."
Before Ethan could respond, the system chimed again.
[Entity Behavior Update.]
[Anomalous Entity has withdrawn from immediate proximity.]
[Cause: Loss of sustained observation.]
Ethan clenched his jaw. "So if I keep looking, it comes back."
[Correct.]
"And if I look too long?"
There was a pause.
A longer one this time.
[Outcome probability: Fatal.]
Ethan let out a slow breath. "Good to know."
The man on the ground shuddered.
"Listen to me," he said urgently, gripping Ethan's sleeve with surprising strength. "You need to understand something before it's too late."
Ethan leaned closer. "I'm listening."
"This city," the man whispered, "is full of things like that. Things that slipped through when people learned how not to see."
"Learned?" Ethan echoed.
"Conditioned," the man corrected. "Trained. Slowly. Over years."
Ethan's eyes narrowed. "By who?"
The man hesitated.
Then his grip loosened.
His gaze drifted past Ethan, unfocused.
"Someone who figured out how to hide crimes inside blind spots," he murmured. "Someone who realized that if no one acknowledges a thing… it might as well never have happened."
A shiver ran through Ethan.
The man's breathing became shallow.
"Hey," Ethan said sharply. "Stay with me."
The man smiled faintly.
"Too late for me," he said. "But you… you've been marked now."
"Marked by what?"
The man's eyes flicked upward, fear flashing through them.
"By the act of noticing," he whispered.
His hand slipped from Ethan's sleeve.
The grip went slack.
Ethan checked for a pulse.
Nothing.
Silence pressed in around him, heavy and suffocating.
The street beyond the alley kept moving. Footsteps passed. Voices laughed. A car horn blared in irritation.
No one stopped.
No one turned their head.
To the rest of the world, nothing had happened.
But Ethan could still see the body.
And worse—
He could feel it.
[Anomalous Event ongoing.]
[Observer status: Active.]
Ethan straightened slowly.
His heartbeat steadied, not because he was calm—but because something inside him had locked into place.
"So that's the price," he murmured. "Once you see it… you're in."
The alley remained empty.
But Ethan knew, with terrifying certainty, that something out there was aware of him now.
And it was waiting to be noticed again.
[Subject becomes null.]