The flicker didn't stop.
It got worse.
Dante stood there, unmoving, but the space around him kept shifting like reality couldn't decide which version of him it was supposed to hold.
One.
Then two.
Then one again.
Victor didn't step closer this time.
He stepped back.
Not out of fear.
Out of instinct.
"Okay," he said slowly, eyes locked on Dante. "We need to figure out what that is before it becomes a bigger problem."
The girl shook her head quickly, her voice tight. "Before? It already is a bigger problem!"
Another flicker.
This time
Longer.
Two Dantes.
One facing them.
The other
Looking somewhere else entirely.
Watching something they couldn't see.
Then
Snap.
Back to one.
Dante exhaled sharply, like he was holding himself together by force. "…I feel it."
Camille's voice came through, tense and focused. "Describe it."
He hesitated.
Because the truth
Didn't sound good.
"It's not splitting randomly," he said.
A pause.
"It's… deciding."
