The first lie reached them before dawn.
It arrived quietly, carried by a trader's casual words while unloading grain at a roadside inn.
"They say a man passed through Mizunoseki," he told the innkeeper, laughing nervously. "Left chaos behind. Crops failed. Children cried. Whole town cursed."
Hiroto froze mid-step.
Yui's eyes hardened. "That's already spreading?"
Masanori nodded grimly. "Faster than force ever could."
By noon, the story had grown.
By dusk, it had sharpened.
In the next village, posters hung freshly nailed:
THE ANOMALY BRINGS INSTABILITY
ORDER IS SAFETY
QUESTIONING SYSTEMS INVITES DISASTER
Goro tore one down. "They're blaming you directly now."
Hiroto studied the ink. "No. They're blaming the idea of me."
The shadow stirred not angry.
Alert.
They entered a town square thick with murmurs.
People stared.
Not with fear.
With judgment.
A man shouted, "Are you the one who ruined Mizunoseki?"
Hiroto stepped forward calmly. "No."
The man sneered. "That's what they all say."
Yui clenched her fists. "They didn't ruin anything!"
A woman interrupted sharply, "My cousin traded there. Now his route's gone."
Hiroto nodded. "Yes."
The crowd stiffened.
"He admits it," someone whispered.
"I didn't take their routes," Hiroto said evenly. "The System did."
"So why did it happen after you came?" the man demanded.
Hiroto met his eyes. "Because they chose."
Silence.
Choice was the word the System feared most.
And the one people struggled hardest to accept.
It wasn't thrown hard.
Just enough.
It struck Hiroto's shoulder and fell.
The shadow surged instinctively.
Then stopped.
Hiroto raised a hand.
"No," he said quietly.
The crowd waited.
Some disappointed.
Some relieved.
A Warden stepped forward not hostile.
Sympathetic.
"We understand fear," it said gently. "Fear leads people to follow dangerous influences."
Hiroto smiled faintly. "You've learned tone."
The Warden continued, "This individual does not intend harm. But outcomes matter more than intent."
Masanori whispered, "They're reframing you as reckless."
"Yes," Hiroto replied. "Which is smarter than calling me evil."
That night, Yui sat awake.
"What if they believe it?" she asked.
"They already do," Hiroto replied softly.
Goro slammed his fist into the dirt. "Then fight back!"
"With what?" Hiroto asked. "Another story?"
Silence answered.
They passed through three towns in two days.
Each colder.
Each more convinced.
Hiroto was no longer a disruptor.
He was a risk.
A variable to be avoided.
The shadow dimmed not weaker.
Lonelier.
In a small village, a boy approached Hiroto quietly.
"Are you the bad man?" he asked.
Hiroto knelt. "What do you think?"
The boy frowned. "Bad men don't look sad."
Hiroto smiled faintly.
That was enough.
High above, the Sovereign observed.
Public perception metrics stabilized.
Resistance reframed as irresponsibility.
Fear redirected away from control.
Toward uncertainty.
STATUS: DIScrediting Effective
But one variable remained.
People were still talking.
Masanori spoke as they camped beneath broken stars.
"They'll isolate you completely."
"Yes," Hiroto said.
"And then?" Yui asked.
Hiroto looked at the shadow.
"Then we see who still listens without permission."
Stories spread faster than truth.
But truth lingered longer.
As Hiroto walked into the night, misunderstood and unprotected, he accepted the cost.
If awareness was the blade.
Then lies were the whetstone.
And the world was learning how sharp both could be.