Arav was not there when it happened.
That was how he knew it mattered.
The first report appeared on a local forum just after noon.
Anyone else notice something wrong near Block C?
Not saying it's supernatural or anything. Just… weird.
No images.
No video.
No panic.
The post gathered replies slowly.
Ira read it twice, then a third time.
"Arav," she said quietly. "This wasn't you, was it?"
He looked over her shoulder.
The location was familiar.
Too familiar.
"No," he said. "I haven't been near Block C today."
Tiku frowned. "Should we be relieved or concerned?"
"Yes," Arav replied.
They walked there anyway.
The campus looked normal.
Students lounged on the steps. Someone played music softly from a phone. A security guard leaned against a railing, bored.
Nothing screamed incident.
That was the problem.
Arav felt it as soon as they crossed an invisible line.
A subtle tightening behind his eyes.
Not pressure.
Recognition.
"This is a decision point," he murmured.
Ira glanced at him. "You didn't do anything."
"I know."
That made it worse.
Near the water dispenser, a small crowd had gathered.
Not alarmed.
Just… uncertain.
A girl stood at the center, holding her wrist.
"It just slipped," she said, confused. "I don't know how. One second it was fine, and then—"
Her shadow lagged.
Not tearing.
Not detaching.
Just hesitating, as if waiting for instructions it never received.
Arav froze.
He felt no urge to ground.
No instinct to stabilize.
Only the sharp, cold awareness that this pattern had occurred without him.
Ira whispered, "They're not scared."
"No," Arav said. "They're deciding."
The people around the girl weren't panicking.
They were negotiating explanations.
"Low blood pressure," someone suggested.
"Dehydration," another said confidently.
"Stress," a third nodded. "Finals week."
Each explanation landed.
Each one narrowed the space of uncertainty.
The shadow snapped back into place.
Clean.
Too clean.
Inside Arav's head, the system logged — delayed, uncertain.
Interpretive Event Detected
Source Attribution: Unknown
Intervention Required: None
None.
Arav's throat went dry.
He stepped back.
Did not touch the girl.
Did not adjust perception.
Did not simplify.
And yet, the outcome had already resolved itself.
"That's new," Tiku said softly. "You didn't do anything… and it still ended wrong."
Ira turned to Arav slowly.
"Arav," she said, voice tight. "If this is happening without you…"
"Then it's no longer about control," he finished.
"It's about momentum."
They left before anyone noticed them watching.
Behind them, the crowd dispersed.
The girl laughed awkwardly, embarrassed.
The incident became a story retold incorrectly within minutes.
By evening, no one remembered it clearly enough to argue.
That night, Arav sat alone.
The pressure behind his eyes was faint but present.
Not urging.
Not demanding.
Observing.
This wasn't Rhea acting directly.
This was the environment learning.
Ajna influence had crossed a threshold.
It no longer required a user.
Far away, Devavrata Rathod stared at the same report.
"No source," he murmured. "No trigger. No handler."
An analyst swallowed. "Sir… what does that mean?"
Devavrata closed the file.
"It means," he said quietly,
"perception no longer needs permission."
Arav looked out at the city lights.
For the first time, the thought occurred to him clearly and without panic:
Even if he stopped.
Even if Rhea vanished.
This wouldn't end.
Because the world had learned a new habit.
And habits were harder to contain than monsters.