They tried to ignore it. Kept moving, kept their pace steady, kept their eyes on the path ahead. That was the mistake.

The shift came fast. Too fast to name. A crack of sound split the air—not thunder, not stone breaking, but something deeper. A pressure that made Y/n's instincts flare before their mind could catch up.

They turned.

Something broke through the space where they had just been. Not toward them, not exactly. But close enough that the world around it collapsed into chaos.

Dust rose in a choking wave. Stone scattered. The noise was everywhere—a grinding, splintering roar that swallowed everything else. Y/n's vision narrowed to motion and impact, to the blur of debris and the shudder of the ground beneath them.

And then—it stopped.

A wall had risen between them and the rest of it. Not smooth. Not built. Just there, like it had been forced out of the earth in an instant and held in place through sheer certainty.

The aftermath settled slowly. Too slowly. The dust hung in the air, thick and golden, catching the light. Silence pressed in, heavy enough that Y/n became aware of their own breathing again—the ragged pull of it, the way their chest rose and fell too fast.

They didn't notice her at first. Only the shift in the space behind them. The feeling of something steady standing just out of sight, like the ground itself had gained weight.

Then footsteps—measured, unhurried. Coming closer without hesitation.

They stopped nearby. A pause.

Y/n turned slightly, just enough to sense her presence more than see it clearly. A figure in the settling dust, low and grounded, with an stillness that felt deliberate.

She didn't speak right away. Just stood there, head tilted faintly, like she was confirming something only she understood.

Then, calm and firm—