Arav didn't fall when he stood this time.
That surprised him.
There was no resistance beneath his feet — no answering pull — but his body adjusted anyway, compensating through tension instead of balance.
Standing felt… negotiated.
"I don't like that," Tiku muttered. "The floor used to at least pretend it cared about you."
Arav didn't reply.
He was listening to something else.
The campus felt louder than usual.
Not in sound — in meaning.
Conversations carried weight unevenly. Laughter lingered too long. Silence pressed harder than it should have.
Ajna didn't stabilize this.
It interpreted it.
And interpretation came with bias.
They were halfway across the quad when Arav stopped short.
"There," he said.
Ira frowned. "There where?"
"That bench," Arav replied. "It's wrong."
Tiku squinted. "It's… a bench?"
Arav shook his head slowly.
"No. It's a decision point."
A student sat hunched at the edge of the bench, fingers clenched tightly around a phone.
Her breath was shallow.
Her shadow lagged.
Not detaching.
Hesitating.
Arav felt it instantly — not pressure, not fear.
Cognitive overload.
Too many interpretations competing at once.
This wasn't a Gate event.
It was worse.
Ira followed his gaze. "She's having a panic attack."
"Yes," Arav said.
"And no."
He stepped closer.
Every instinct screamed for grounding.
There was none.
Only clarity.
He didn't touch her.
Didn't speak.
He adjusted perception instead.
Focused on the narrative tension — the part of her experience that couldn't decide what mattered most.
Arav narrowed it.
Just slightly.
Not forcing calm.
Removing choice.
The girl's breathing slowed instantly.
Her shoulders dropped.
The shadow snapped back into alignment.
She looked up, confused.
"What… happened?" she asked no one in particular.
Her phone slipped from her fingers.
She didn't pick it up.
Ira's eyes widened.
"You didn't—"
"I know," Arav said quietly.
He felt it immediately.
The cost.
A sharp ache behind his eyes.
Not pain.
Weight.
The system reacted late.
And carefully.
Ajna Intervention Logged
Method: Interpretive Narrowing
Outcome: Successful
Warning: Influence Accumulates
Tiku swallowed. "Okay. I don't want to alarm anyone… but that felt illegal."
Arav didn't disagree.
The girl stood and walked away, calmer than before.
Too calm.
Ira watched her go.
"You didn't fix her," she said slowly.
"No," Arav replied. "I simplified her."
"That's worse."
"Yes," Arav said again.
The pressure behind his eyes didn't fade.
It settled.
Like something that now expected to be used again.
Arav closed his eyes briefly.
This was the danger Devavrata warned about.
Ajna didn't break reality.
It made decisions for it.
That night, Arav dreamed of standing in a room full of doors.
None were locked.
Each one was labeled with a version of the same truth.
He didn't choose one.
He closed several.
Somewhere else, Rhea tilted her head, listening.
"Oh," she murmured softly.
"So you will use it."
Not approval.
Not anger.
Interest.
Arav woke with the echo of that choice still pressing against his thoughts.
For the first time, he understood the real risk:
Using Ajna didn't feel like power.
It felt like responsibility without consent.
And once taken…
It didn't give itself back.