It started small.
Lucas noticed it the next morning, but not in the way he expected. No dramatic failures, no one getting thrown across the floor, no sudden breakdowns that made people stop and stare.
Just… slippage.
A student moved exactly when they should have.
Perfect timing.
Perfect form.
The delay hit.
Wrong result.
They corrected.
Too late.
Reset.
Lucas watched from the edge of the hall, arms folded.
"…Yeah," he muttered. "This is going to get ugly."
Raisel stood beside him, expression unchanged.
"It already is."
The grid wasn't crowded.
That was new.
Usually, once something difficult showed up, people swarmed it. Tried to break it down, figure it out faster than everyone else.
Now?
Students spaced themselves out.
Not out of courtesy.
Out of hesitation.
