Asher learned something important about adrenaline.
It lies.
Specifically, it convinces you that you are fine right up until the exact moment it leaves and takes your knees with it.
Which is how he ended up sitting on the curb, back against a streetlight, while Maya hovered in front of him like a very stressed, very unimpressed guardian spirit.
"Don't move," she said.
"I'm not," Asher replied. "I'm aggressively staying put."
She glanced at his hands.
They were shaking.
Not violently. Not dangerously.
But enough to be noticeable.
"Good," she said. "Because if you stand up and collapse, I'm not explaining that to anyone."
Asher smiled weakly. "You say that like you've already planned the explanation."
Maya crossed her arms. "I'm on version three."
Sirens wailed closer. Someone yelled something about paramedics. A man in a reflective vest tried to get people to back up.
Phones were everywhere.
Asher turned his head just enough to see a reporter gesturing excitedly at the bus.
"…How bad is it?" he asked quietly.
Maya followed his gaze.
"…Define bad."
He sighed. "That bad."
"Okay," she said. "On the plus side? Nobody got hurt."
His shoulders slumped in relief.
"On the minus side," she continued, "you are currently trending on at least two social media platforms."
Asher winced. "I don't even have social media."
"You're on it anyway."
He closed his eyes for a second.
"…I should've let it tip."
Maya's expression hardened instantly.
"Don't," she said. "You do not get to say that."
He opened his eyes.
"I mean—"
"No," she repeated. "You don't get to regret keeping people safe because it's inconvenient."
Asher swallowed.
"…Okay."
She softened slightly.
"Look," she said more quietly. "I don't know what's going on with you. I don't know how you did that. And I don't care—yet."
He snorted weakly. "That 'yet' feels ominous."
"It should," she replied. "Because right now I need you to tell me one thing."
She leaned down so only he could hear.
"Are you in danger?"
Asher hesitated.
The system stirred.
Not a screen.
Just awareness.
Choose carefully.
"…Not the way it looks," he said finally.
She studied his face.
"Are other people in danger because of you?"
His throat tightened.
"No," he said. "I swear."
She nodded once.
"Okay," she said. "Then we deal with the rest."
Asher exhaled slowly.
"…Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet."
A paramedic approached, kneeling in front of him.
"Sir, can you tell me your name?"
Asher opened his mouth.
Maya cut in smoothly. "He's Asher. He's coherent, just exhausted."
The paramedic nodded. "Asher, can you stand?"
Asher glanced at Maya.
She shook her head slightly.
"He needs a minute," she said. "He just… pushed himself."
The paramedic hesitated, then nodded. "Alright. We'll check vitals here."
Asher mouthed thank you.
She rolled her eyes.
"You owe me coffee," she whispered.
"I owe you several," he whispered back.
A police officer approached next, posture cautious but not aggressive.
"Sir," the officer said, "can you explain what happened?"
Asher opened his mouth—
Maya stepped in again.
"He reacted," she said calmly. "Instinct. The bus shifted, he braced. He got lucky."
The officer frowned. "Lucky?"
Asher nodded quickly. "Extremely. I trip over curbs. This was a statistical anomaly."
Maya shot him a look.
"…Maybe don't say that."
The officer studied them for a moment, then glanced at the bus, the curb, the crowd.
"…We'll need a statement later," he said. "For now, stay put."
He moved on.
Asher sagged back against the pole.
"…You're very good at this."
Maya exhaled.
"I work retail," she said. "You learn how to de-escalate everything."
He chuckled, then winced as the movement reminded him he had muscles.
"…I didn't plan that," he said quietly.
She nodded. "I know."
He looked up at her.
"I was trying to be careful."
"I know that too."
"…I'm failing."
She considered that.
"No," she said. "You're just outgrowing your excuses."
Asher stared at her.
"…That's uncomfortably accurate."
Sirens faded. The crowd thinned as officials took over. Someone handed Maya a bottle of water, which she immediately pressed into Asher's hands.
"Drink."
He did.
Slowly.
The system flickered at the edge of his vision.
[Notice]
External response probability elevated.
Intervention pathways available.
Asher didn't look at it.
"…Not now," he murmured.
For once—
It listened.
Maya crouched beside him.
"Okay," she said. "Here's how this goes."
He looked at her.
"We go home," she continued. "You rest. You don't vanish. You don't fight gravity or buses or fate."
"…I can't promise fate," Asher said.
She snorted. "Then promise me you won't do anything stupid tonight."
He nodded.
"I promise."
She searched his face one more time.
"…I'm going to ask you questions later."
He smiled faintly.
"…I figured."
"And when I do," she added, "don't lie."
Asher hesitated.
Then nodded again.
"…Okay."
She stood and offered him a hand.
Asher took it.
She pulled him to his feet easily—then paused.
"…See?" she muttered. "That part? Still weird."
He laughed, unsteady but upright.
"Yeah," he said. "I noticed."
They started walking.
Behind them, cameras clicked.
Ahead of them, the city waited.
And somewhere deep inside Heaven's Heart—
The system adjusted.
Not to combat.
Not to efficiency.
But to a new, dangerous variable:
Trust.