Bishop didn't come back when he said he would.
That was the first real warning.
The fragment in Tia's hands became restless.
Not brighter.
Not louder.
Just… unstable.
Like it could no longer hold still.
Jessara stood. "We find him."
No one disagreed.
Outside, Paris felt unchanged—but Tia felt it differently now.
Like the city had gained awareness of them.
Not hostility.
Attention.
That was worse.
Far away, Bishop stood alone in a narrow street.
Something was wrong with the space around him.
Not danger in a physical sense.
But distortion—like the world wasn't aligning properly.
A presence moved where nothing should move.
Not visible.
Not defined.
Just there.
Bishop exhaled slowly.
"…Alright," he muttered. "I get it."
A faint shift responded around him.
And for the first time, he felt it—
not chasing him…
but noticing him.