The night was humid. The rain had stopped, but the air held the water. Kaito walked through the Grey District. His steps were silent. He did not look at the shadows. He looked at the seams. The reality stitches were fraying. He could feel the pressure. It was like a storm front moving in. Low pressure. Heavy air.
He stopped at the first seal. It was behind a closed bakery. The brick wall shimmered. The seal was holding. But it was thin. Kaito drew the Mythical card. Atlas. The card was heavy. It pulled at his wrist. He pressed it against the brick. The stone entity materialized. He did not speak. He placed his hand on the wall. The glow faded. The wall became solid. The shimmer stopped. Atlas stepped back. He faded into the card. Kaito pocketed it.
