He looked at the chat, but none of them saw it, instead they were talking about how Players weren't very good streamers yet and how it would take a while before they learnt to interact with and hold the attention of an audience.
His dad was also typing something, but Faust dismissed the interface and just stared at the distortion. It was whispering something to him. He drew closer and closer, trying to hear the words.
Where… bloom… point… death.
His mind quickly became immersed in trying to piece together a coherent sentence. He didn't even notice he had lost control of his body.
Not until he felt his finger tickled by the edge of the waxy space.
His eyes snapped open and he realised he was touching it and recoiled. But his fingers didn't budge an inch.
A powerful suction pulled him towards the rupture. Faust fought with all his strength, cracking the floorboards as he tried bracing himself. But he was still pulled in.
It was like entering a Narrow Path.
