Kael hit the ground hard.
The impact knocked the air from his lungs, but he rolled instinctively, forcing his body to move before the thing above him could strike again.
Too fast.
It was too fast.
The creature blurred through the air where he'd been a second ago, its claws carving deep into the blackened earth. Sparks? no, not sparks, something thicker, darker burst outward on impact.
Kael pushed himself up, breathing sharp and controlled.
"Alright," he muttered. "You're new."
The creature straightened slowly.
Up close, it was worse.
Its form held together better than the others he'd fought, less twisted, more… intentional. Its limbs were proportioned almost correctly. Its face! if it could be called that, had structure.
Two eyes.
A mouth.
A smile that didn't belong.
"You're noticing," it said.
Its voice echoed strangely, like it existed slightly out of sync with itself.
Kael narrowed his eyes. "You talk too much."
"And you don't understand enough."
It moved again.
Kael reacted instantly, pulling energy into his hands, not the refined illusions he used on stage, but something raw, something that hummed beneath his skin like a second heartbeat.
He thrusted his arm forward.
Light tore through the space between them.
The blast hit the creature square in the chest and passed through it.
Kael's eyes widened.
The thing flickered.
For a fraction of a second, it wasn't there.
Then it was right in front of him.
Its hand slammed into his chest and sent him flying.
Pain exploded through his ribs as he crashed against jagged stone. The world spun, but he forced himself upright, coughing.
"That's new," he rasped.
The creature tilted its head, studying him.
"You're still treating this like a dream."
Kael spat blood to the side.
"And you're still talking."
But something in what it said lingered.
Because it was right.
Some part of him some stubborn, human part still held onto the idea that this place wasn't fully real.
That there were limits.
Rules.
There weren't.
He knew that.
He'd always known.
But knowing something and accepting it were two different things.
The creature took a step closer.
"This realm is not separate from you," it said. "It never was."
Kael's jaw tightened.
"Funny," he said. "Could've sworn I didn't invite it."
The creature's smile deepened.
"You did."
And then it lunged again.
Kael changed his approach.
If raw force wasn't working, then he'd have to think.
He shifted sideways as the creature struck, letting its momentum carry it past him. This time, instead of attacking directly, he focused, really really focused.
Not on the creature.
On the space around it.
He felt it then.
The thinness.
The same fragile edge he used during his performances but here, it was everywhere. The air itself felt like it was barely holding together.
A veil.
And the creature…It wasn't just in front of it, It was moving through it.
Phasing.
That's why his attack had failed.
Kael's breathing steadied.
"Alright," he murmured. "I see it now."
The creature turned, watching him carefully.
"That's the problem," it said. "You're starting to."
Kael ignored that.
He raised his hand again,but this time, he didn't release the energy outward.
He pulled.
The air twisted.
For a brief, dangerous second, something tore.
The creature froze.
Just for a moment.
That was enough.
Kael stepped forward and drove his hand straight through its chest, Not physically.
Something else, Something deeper.
The creature let out a sound that wasn't quite a scream. Its form distorted violently, flickering in and out of existence.
"You're not supposed to!!!" it began.
Kael clenched his hand.
"Neither are you."
The thing shattered.
Not to pieces but into the vast nothingness.
Gone.
Silence fell, Heavy, Unnatural.
Kael stood there, breathing hard, his hand still raised.
Slowly, he lowered it.
"That's new," he said again, quieter this time.
But there was no satisfaction in it.
No victory.
Because the creature's words hadn't left him.
This realm is not separate from you.
Kael looked around.
The landscape of Veyruun stretched endlessly broken, burning, wrong.
And for the first time,
It didn't feel like a place he was visiting.
It felt like something he was connected to.
He woke up with a gasp.
His body jerked upright, his lungs dragging in air like he'd been under water.
For a moment, he didn't move.
Didn't think.
Then the pain hit sharp.
Immediate.
Kael doubled over slightly, gripping his side.
His ribs.
The exact same place the creature had struck him.
Slowly almost reluctantly he pulled his shirt up.
There it was.
A bruise.
Dark and spreading .
Real.
Kael stared at it in silence.
"No," he said under his breath.
That had never happened before.
Not like this.
Yes, he woke up sore sometimes. Tired. Drained.
But this?
This was different!!!
This was exact, Precise.
He stood abruptly, pacing the small room.
"Okay… okay," he muttered. "Think."
Something had changed.
Not just in Veyruun.
Here.
The line was thinning.
Kael stopped pacing.
His gaze shifted slowly toward the mirror across the room.
For a second, everything looked normal.
Then,
His reflection blinked.
Out of sync.
Kael froze.
He hadn't blinked.
The version of him in the mirror smiled.
Not fully.
Just slightly.
Wrong.
Kael stepped back.
The reflection didn't follow immediately.
A half-second delay.
Then it matched him again.
Perfect.
Like nothing had happened.
Silence filled the room.
Kael's heart pounded steadily in his chest.
"Yeah," he whispered.
"This is new."
He didn't go back to sleep.
Not even by accident.
The rest of the morning passed in fragments, half-thoughts, unfinished movements, the constant awareness that something was no longer where it should be.
By the time he stepped outside, the world felt… thinner.
Not visibly.
Not in any way he could point to.
But he felt it.
Like the air itself had changed density.
Like reality had loosened its grip just slightly.
People passed by him as usual, caught up in their own lives. Conversations, laughter, arguments. It all sounded normal.
But Kael noticed things now.
Small things.
A shadow that stretched just a bit too far.
A reflection in a car window that didn't match the person walking past it.
A flicker at the edge of his vision that disappeared when he turned his head.
The veil.
It wasn't just in Veyruun.
It was here too.
Backstage, Lena was already waiting.
She took one look at him and frowned.
"That's worse," she said immediately.
Kael didn't bother asking what she meant.
"The show's tonight," he replied.
"That's not what I'm talking about."
"It's what matters."
Lena stepped closer, her voice low. "No, what matters is the fact that you look like you got hit by a car."
"Not a car."
The words slipped out before he could stop them.
Lena blinked. "What?"
Kael shook his head quickly. "Nothing. I'm fine."
"You're not fine."
"I said I'm fine."
There was a sharp edge in his voice now.
Unintentional.
Lena noticed.
She studied him for a moment, then sighed.
"You're going to burn out," she said quietly.
Kael didn't respond.
Because deep down, he wasn't sure that was the worst thing that could happen anymore.
That night, the stage felt different.
Not safer.
Not controlled.
Just… thinner.
Kael stood under the lights, the audience a blur beyond the brightness.
He lifted a coin, letting it catch the glow.
"Watch closely," he said.
The coin vanished.
Simple.
Clean.
But Kael felt it.
The pull.
Stronger than before.
The space in front of him wavered slightly just enough for him to notice.
Just enough to be dangerous.
He clenched his hand.
For a split second something on the other side pressed back.
Kael's breath hitched.
The audience didn't see it.
They just saw the coin reappear.
Applause followed.
But Kael wasn't smiling anymore.
Because he understood something now.
What he'd been opening in small, controlled ways, Was starting to open on its own.
Later that night, he stood in his apartment, staring at the mirror again.
Waiting and Watching.
Nothing happened.
Everything looked normal.
But that didn't mean anything anymore.
Kael exhaled slowly and stepped back.
"Alright," he said quietly.
"If this is how it's going to be…"
His eyes hardened slightly.
"Then I adapt."
But even as he said it, he wasn't sure adaptation would be enough. Because somewhere, beyond sleep, beyond mirrors, beyond the thin veil holding everything together, something had noticed him.
And it was getting closer.