Rio didn't leave immediately.
He stood in front of the monitor a few seconds longer than he needed to, as if expecting the screen to change on its own. The files didn't move. The recordings didn't update. Whatever had happened here had already happened.
"…Synchronization."
The word lingered in his mind.
He looked down at his hand.
It didn't look different.
Not at first.
But when he focused—really focused—there was something off. A faint distortion under the skin, like heat rising from asphalt. It came and went so quickly he almost convinced himself it wasn't there.
Almost.
"…I need to get out."
Saying it out loud made it feel more real. Staying here wouldn't help him. Whatever answers existed in this place, they weren't going to come neatly organized on a screen.
He turned away from the console.
That was when it hit him again.
Stronger this time.
Not a pulse. Not a flicker.
A shift.
Rio froze mid-step, his fingers tightening instinctively as something inside his chest twisted sharply. It wasn't exactly pain, but his body reacted to it like it was.
"…No…"
His breathing became shallow.
The sensation spread quickly, branching outward from his chest into his arms, his spine, his neck. It felt like pressure building in multiple directions at once, like something was trying to expand where there was no space.
"Stop…"
He pressed his hand against his chest, as if that would do anything.
It didn't.
The pressure increased.
Heat surged first.
Sudden and intense, flooding through his right arm. His muscles tensed violently, his fingers curling in on themselves.
"…too hot…"
His sleeve darkened.
For a second, he thought it was a shadow.
Then he realized—
It was burning.
A thin line of orange light flickered beneath his skin, tracing along his forearm like a crack in glass.
Rio jerked his arm back.
"What—"
The word barely left his mouth before something else followed.
Cold.
Not gradual.
Immediate.
It slammed into him from the opposite side, freezing his breath mid-exhale. His left arm went numb, a pale frost spreading across his skin in sharp, jagged patterns.
The two sensations collided.
Heat and cold.
They didn't balance.
They clashed.
Rio dropped to one knee, his body locking up as the opposing forces surged through him without control. His vision blurred, the room distorting as his senses struggled to keep up.
"…make it stop…"
His voice came out strained.
It wasn't just uncomfortable anymore.
It was wrong on a level his body didn't understand how to process.
Something cracked.
Not outside.
Inside.
A sharp, splitting sensation ran through his chest, like a fracture spreading beneath his ribs.
Rio gasped.
And for a moment—
Everything went quiet.
Too quiet.
Then the third presence hit.
Lightning.
It didn't build up.
It snapped.
A violent jolt surged through his body, his muscles spasming uncontrollably as a sharp current ripped through his nerves. His back arched, his teeth clenched hard enough to hurt.
A faint sound filled the room.
A high-pitched, unstable hum.
It took him a second to realize—
It was coming from him.
"…this isn't… normal…"
The words were obvious, but saying them grounded him just enough to stay conscious.
The hum grew louder.
The air around him shifted.
A loose cable on the ground lifted slightly.
Then dropped.
Then lifted again.
Rio's eyes widened slightly.
"…what…"
The pressure changed again.
This time, it wasn't inside him.
It was around him.
The space itself felt heavier, like something was pushing down from above.
Gravity.
The realization came too quickly for him to process.
"…no…"
The floor beneath him creaked faintly.
A metal panel nearby dented inward with a soft, sharp sound.
Rio forced himself to move.
Not fast.
Just enough.
He dragged himself backward, his limbs barely responding as he tried to create distance from… something he couldn't even see.
"This is me…"
The thought settled in.
Clear.
Unavoidable.
"This is coming from me."
That realization made it worse.
His breathing became erratic again, not just from the pain, but from something deeper.
Fear.
Not of the place.
Not of the bodies in the hallway.
Of himself.
The heat surged again, stronger than before. This time it didn't stay contained beneath his skin.
A brief flash.
Then—
Fire.
It burst outward from his right arm in a sudden, uncontrolled flare, licking across the floor and catching on a loose piece of fabric nearby.
Rio recoiled instinctively.
"Stop!"
The flame didn't respond.
It wasn't something he was controlling.
It was just… happening.
At the same time, the cold intensified, frost spreading across the metal floor beneath his left hand. The surface cracked faintly as the temperature dropped too quickly.
The two forces met in the space between them.
For a split second—
Everything stilled.
Then—
The reaction hit.
A sharp burst of pressure exploded outward, throwing Rio back against the wall. The impact knocked the air out of him, his head ringing as his vision flickered.
The hum peaked.
Then cut.
Silence returned abruptly.
Too abruptly.
Rio didn't move.
He stayed where he had fallen, staring at the ceiling as his chest rose and fell unevenly.
"…I…"
His voice shook.
"…I did that."
There was no denying it.
No misunderstanding.
No outside factor.
It was him.
His gaze shifted slowly to his hands.
They looked normal again.
No flames.
No frost.
No visible sign of what had just happened.
That made it worse.
"…I can't control it."
The words felt heavy.
Final.
He pushed himself up slowly, his body still unsteady but responding better than before.
The room had changed.
Not drastically.
But enough.
A section of the floor was scorched.
Another was covered in thin frost.
One of the panels along the wall had been dented inward.
Small things.
But real.
"…If that happens again…"
He didn't finish the thought.
He didn't need to.
The hallway flashed in his mind.
The bodies.
What they looked like.
"…No."
His jaw tightened.
"…I'm not ending up like that."
For a moment, he considered staying.
Waiting.
Trying to understand what was happening before moving again.
But the feeling in his chest hadn't completely disappeared.
It was still there.
Quieter.
But present.
Like something watching.
Waiting.
"…This place isn't safe."
Not because of what had already happened.
Because of what could happen next.
He took a step toward the exit.
Then another.
This time, he didn't hesitate.
Not because he wasn't afraid.
But because staying still felt worse.
As he reached the doorway, he paused for just a second.
Not looking back at the room.
Not at the monitor.
At himself.
His reflection faintly visible in a darkened screen.
"…What are you…"
The question didn't have an answer.
Not yet.
Maybe not ever.
He turned away.
And stepped into the hallway.
This time, the bodies didn't shock him the same way.
That didn't make them easier to look at.
If anything, it made them harder.
Because now—
He understood something he hadn't before.
"…This could be me."
Or worse.
"…This could be something I do."
The thought lingered as he walked.
Careful.
Controlled.
Every step measured.
Not because of what was around him.
But because of what was inside him.
And for the first time since waking up—
Rio was genuinely afraid.
Not of dying.
But of surviving like this.
[End of Chapter 3]