Elvyn stood on the far side of the kitchen, chest heaving, a wet patch darkening his grey hoodie where the glass of water had caught him square in the sternum.

Instead, a sound. Low. Humming.

The outlet behind the counter, the one the water had splashed against, began to buzz. Sparks flew— blue and white, angry little things that danced across the puddle on the floor.

And then— silence.

When the spots cleared from their vision, they were both still standing. But something was wrong. The room looked the same, but it felt... tilted. Off.

Elvyn looked down at his hands. Then up at his reflection in the microwave. His mouth fell open.