There was no explosion.
No major shift in the terrain.
But the world began to change.
Not because the Adrasteia forces were advancing.
Not because the Faction was retreating.
But because meaning moved faster than bodies.
On the front lines,
the Faction forces waited for further orders.
The command did not come.
A unit began to grow restless.
They moved on their own.
Into a small village south of Zone 6.2.
No resistance.
No sign of the enemy.
Just the villagers sitting.
Staring at them.
No words.
No retreat.
No fear.
And in a single second—
no shots,
no magic,
no attacks—
their meaning sensors went dead.
"Something's wrong," whispered one of the unifiers.
"I…
don't know why I'm here."
His body was intact.
His mission was clear.
But his head was empty.
It was as if all the sense of direction he once had had been sucked out of him without a trace.
This effect spreads.
Not by word of mouth.
But by resonance.
One citizen only has to look.
