Sarya did not respond to the message immediately.
She stood at the window long enough to confirm the sedan wasn't coincidental. The engine idled steadily. The driver's silhouette remained still. Patient.
Her phone buzzed again.
> I'm not here to hurt you.
That was not reassuring.
She typed back.
> Then why are you here?
A pause. Long enough to feel intentional.
> Because whatever you're doing is distorting measurable reality.
Sarya's gaze shifted subtly toward the threshold's faint shimmer. It remained calm, nearly invisible.
> You're mistaken.
The reply came quickly this time.
> I'm not.
Another message followed.
> I can show you the readings.
She considered her options carefully.
Ignoring the woman would escalate suspicion. Authorities rarely walked away from anomalies. If this was institutional, more resources would follow.
Confrontation offered information.
Information was leverage.
She slipped on her sandals and stepped out of her apartment.
The hallway was quiet. No flickering lights. No unnatural pressure. Good.
When she stepped outside the building, the afternoon air felt ordinary. Warm. Traffic distant. Nothing supernatural in sight.
The sedan's window lowered fully as she approached.
The woman inside looked early thirties. Dark hair tied back neatly. Sharp eyes that assessed quickly but did not linger unnecessarily.
"Get in," the woman said calmly.
Sarya did not move.
"You can speak from there."
The woman studied her for a moment, then nodded slightly.
"Fair."
She reached into the passenger seat and lifted a tablet, turning the screen outward.
Graphs filled the display.
Spikes. Fluctuations. Patterns overlaying each other.
"These began six days ago," the woman said. "Localized electromagnetic distortion. Micro-gravitational shifts. Data irregularities in nearby cell towers."
Sarya kept her expression neutral.
"That sounds like equipment malfunction."
The woman's gaze sharpened.
"It's centered on your unit."
Silence.
Cars passed on the street behind them.
Children laughed faintly from somewhere nearby.
Normal life continued, unaware of the conversation taking place.
"My name is Dr. Elira Vance," the woman said calmly. "I work with a private research firm that monitors environmental anomalies."
"Environmental," Sarya repeated lightly.
"Yes."
Elira's eyes held hers.
"We don't usually investigate residential apartments."
Sarya's heart remained steady.
"What do you think I'm doing?"
Elira tilted her head slightly.
"I don't know yet."
Honest.
That mattered.
Sarya crossed her arms loosely.
"And if I refuse to cooperate?"
Elira didn't hesitate.
"Others will get involved."
Government, Sarya assumed.
Less discreet.
More forceful.
The threshold hummed faintly behind her ribs, sensing tension.
"I'm not running a reactor in my living room," Sarya said evenly.
"I didn't think you were."
Elira tapped the screen again.
"The patterns don't behave like machines. They behave like… interference."
Sarya almost smiled.
"That's vague."
"It's accurate."
Elira lowered the tablet.
"Look. I don't believe in superstition. I believe in data. And the data says something in your apartment is bending localized physics."
Direct.
Blunt.
No accusations. Just facts.
Sarya made a decision.
"What would you do if that were true?" she asked quietly.
Elira did not laugh.
"I would try to understand it before someone weaponized it."
That answer felt dangerous in a different way.
Weaponized.
Of course.
Human systems adapted quickly when power appeared.
"You assume I have control," Sarya said.
"Do you?"
Silence stretched between them.
The threshold pulsed once.
A warning.
Someone else was approaching.
Not from Aurelion.
From down the street.
Sarya glanced briefly past the sedan.
A black SUV turned the corner slowly.
Unmarked.
Too deliberate.
Elira noticed it too.
Her jaw tightened.
"That's not mine," she said.
"I assumed."
The SUV slowed.
Paused.
Then parked two buildings down.
Two men remained inside.
Watching.
Elira swore softly under her breath.
"I wanted this quiet."
"You didn't get it," Sarya replied.
Elira looked at her again.
"Whatever this is, it just escalated."
Sarya nodded once.
"Yes."
Elira studied her face carefully.
"You're not surprised."
"No."
The SUV doors opened.
The men stepped out.
Suits.
Calm posture.
Not local police.
Not random curiosity.
Institutional.
Sarya felt the threshold stir.
If confrontation escalated here, reality might respond.
She could not allow a public fracture.
Elira followed her gaze.
"You know something," Elira said quietly.
Sarya met her eyes.
"Yes."
Elira made a fast decision.
"Get in."
This time, Sarya did.
The sedan pulled away smoothly just as the suited men reached the sidewalk.
They did not chase.
They watched.
That was worse.
Inside the moving car, Elira exhaled slowly.
"Okay," she said. "We're past small talk."
Sarya stared ahead through the windshield.
"What do you want?"
"The truth."
"And if the truth sounds impossible?"
"I adjust my model."
Direct again.
No drama.
Just problem-solving.
Sarya considered her carefully.
"Tell me," Elira said, "is it biological, mechanical, or neither?"
Sarya answered honestly.
"Neither."
Elira's grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly.
"So it's not built."
"No."
"It's not organic."
"No."
Elira was silent for several seconds.
"Then it's theoretical."
Sarya looked at her.
"It's convergent."
Elira processed the word slowly.
"As in parallel realities."
"Yes."
The sedan did not swerve.
Elira did not laugh.
She simply nodded once.
"I suspected that."
Sarya studied her profile.
"You suspected other worlds?"
"I suspected layered dimensional overlap. I didn't expect confirmation."
Calm acceptance.
That made her dangerous.
Elira pulled into an underground parking garage and cut the engine.
"We need to move this conversation somewhere shielded," she said.
"Shielded from what?"
Elira looked at her.
"From them."