The Loom's warning echoed in the hollow space behind Kael's eyes: [Subject Kael Vance - Current State: Compromised - Loom Resonance attracting Undesired Attention]. Compromised. Attracting attention. It wasn't just reporting the monster at the door; it was implicating him. His very existence, filtered through whatever arcane lens The Loom operated on, was apparently ringing a dinner bell in some dimension he desperately wanted nothing to do with.
Panic seized him, cold and sharp. His breath hitched. His gaze darted uselessly around the cramped bodega – shelves crammed with chips, dusty racks of cheap magazines, the humming cooler full of suspiciously bright energy drinks. What was he supposed to do? The Loom offered diagnostics, not solutions. It was like having the world's most detailed weather report during a hurricane, helpfully pointing out the exact velocity of the debris about to cave your skull in.
[Entity Proximity: 9 meters - Threshold Breach Imminent - Perceptual Filter Strength: Fluctuating - WARNING: Localized Spacetime Shear Detected]
Threshold breach? Spacetime shear? The text shimmered violently on the surface of a nearby slushie machine, the colours bleeding into nauseating swirls. The air grew thick and heavy, pressing in on him. The low hum of the coolers seemed to warp, dropping in pitch to a guttural groan. Outside, the rain wasn't just rain anymore; through The Loom's chaotic sensory feed, it felt like falling glass shards scraping against reality itself. Kael could feel the pressure of the Void Echo leaning against the flimsy glass door, an invisible weight testing its integrity.
He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to force down the rising bile. Think. Don't just react. Analyze. He forced himself to focus on The Loom's feed, pushing past the immediate warnings. Transient Void Echo. Transient. Meaning temporary, not fully anchored here. An echo, a reflection of something else, something from… the Void? Whatever that was. Predatory Curiosity. It wasn't necessarily here to devour him, maybe just… investigate the strange signal? Like a shark bumping a new object in the water. Could he make the 'object' seem less interesting? Or actively unpleasant?
His eyes snapped open, scanning the store again, but this time through the filter of The Loom's constant analysis. Everything had a signature, a resonance. Most were mundane: the plastic wrappers (Stable Polymer Resonance), the processed sugar (Bio-Chemical Energy Signature: Low), the aging fluorescent lights (Erratic Electromagnetic Pulse - Minor Hazard).
Then his gaze caught on two things almost simultaneously.
On the counter, next to the register, sat a large, economy-sized canister of cheap rock salt, used for the walkway in winter but left out year-round because Mrs. Petrov, the owner, was eternally optimistic about freak blizzards. The Loom's text overlaid it: [Material: Sodium Chloride Crystal (Impure) - Resonance Signature: Stable Crystalline Matrix - Property: High Ontological Inertia - Weak Nullification Field against Ectoplasmic & Void Constructs].
Ontological Inertia? Nullification Field? It sounded like pseudo-scientific jargon, but The Loom hadn't been wrong yet, just obscure. Salt. The old myths, the folklore… was there something to it? A weak field wasn't much, but it was something.
At the same time, his attention snagged on the flickering neon sign outside – 'Midnight Munchies' in lurid pink and electric blue. Its flickering had always been annoying; now, The Loom provided details: [Component: Damaged Neon Transformer (Model Z-45b) - Outputting Unstable High-Frequency EM Bursts - Resonance Signature: Chaotic Discharge - Localized Effect: Minor Spatiotemporal Distortion (Intermittent)].
Chaotic discharge. Minor distortion. The sign was already messing with spacetime on a tiny level because it was busted. The Void Echo was made of spatial distortion, according to the earlier Spacetime Shear warning. Could introducing more chaos, more noise into its frequency, disrupt it? Like static on a radio channel?
An idea sparked, desperate and probably stupid. He needed to make this immediate area 'unpleasant' for something composed of transient void energy. He needed ontological 'static' and maybe a dash of 'get off my lawn' nullification.
His legs felt like lead, but the Loom's insistent pulse – [Threshold Integrity: Failing - Entity Manifestation Potential: Rising] – spurred him into motion. He grabbed the heavy salt canister, his muscles straining. It was surprisingly hefty. He stumbled towards the door, the invisible pressure intensifying with every step. The glass seemed to bulge inward slightly, the rain-streaked surface shimmering like heat haze.
He could feel the Echo's 'curiosity' turning 'predatory.' A coldness seeped into the air, leeching the warmth from his skin. The Loom flared again, this time a direct mental whisper, colder than the air: [WARNING: Direct Contact Imminent - Manifestation Event Probability: 88%].
No time. Kael fumbled with the plastic lid of the salt canister, his fingers clumsy with adrenaline. He ripped it off, spilling coarse crystals onto the grimy linoleum floor. Then, bracing himself, he heaved the canister. Not at the invisible entity, but towards the electrical junction box near the floor where the wiring for the external neon sign ran.
It struck the metal box with a dull clang. Salt crystals exploded outwards in a white cloud. It wasn't the impact he was counting on, though. He was betting on the properties The Loom had highlighted.
Simultaneously, Kael lunged for the main light switch panel near the door, the one that controlled the external sign along with some of the interior lights. He didn't just flick it off. He slammed his hand against it, jiggling the switches rapidly, hoping to further aggravate the already faulty transformer.
The effect was immediate and jarring.
The neon sign outside stuttered violently, flashing pink-blue-dark-pink-blue-DARK in a manic rhythm. The lights inside flickered in sympathy. The air crackled with palpable static electricity, raising the hairs on Kael's arms. The Loom went haywire, text scrolling so fast it was an unreadable blur, colours exploding behind his eyes like fireworks in a migraine.
[!!CHAOTIC EM SURGE DETECTED!!]
[!!SPATIOTEMPORAL DISTURBANCE AMPLIFIED!!]
[!!VOID ECHO SIGNATURE DESTABILIZING!!]
[!!NULLIFICATION FIELD INTERACTION: POSITIVE!!]
Through the chaos, Kael felt it – the pressure lessened. The invisible weight against the door recoiled. The bone-deep cold retreated slightly. There was a sound, not quite auditory, more like a psychic hiss of frustration, echoing in the space the Loom occupied in his head. The rain outside seemed to momentarily lessen its assault, the angry scraping fading.
Then, as quickly as it began, the flickering stopped. Several of the interior lights went out completely, plunging half the store into shadow. The neon sign outside gave one final, pathetic pink flicker and died. The automatic door, its sensor likely fried by the EM pulse or confused by the salt, gave a sad little whirr and slid half-open, then stuck.
Silence descended, broken only by Kael's ragged breathing and the drumming of the now-normal sounding rain on the roof.
The Loom's frantic scrolling slowed, settling back into its usual (if unwelcome) state.
[Void Echo Signature: Retreated - Vector: Non-Standard Dimensional Axis - Residual Trace Resonance: Moderate, Dissipating Slowly - Localized Reality: Stabilizing - WARNING: Equipment Damage Sustained (Neon Sign Transformer, Door Sensor, Circuit Breaker 3)]
[User Resonance Signature: Stabilized - Residual Void Contamination: Minimal - Attractor Factor: Temporarily Masked by EM Interference]
He'd done it. He'd actually done it. He hadn't fought it; he'd annoyed it, made his little patch of reality too noisy, too static-filled, too salty for its liking. He sagged against the counter, dropping the now mostly empty salt canister with a thud. His legs were shaking uncontrollably. Salt crystals crunched under his worn sneakers. The air tasted metallic, like ozone.
He looked at the half-open door, the darkness outside, the rain. He was alive. He was alone.
Or maybe not.
Headlights cut through the rain, sweeping across the bodega's darkened interior. A car, a boringly conventional dark grey sedan, pulled up silently to the curb, its engine barely audible over the downpour. It parked directly in front of the store, its lights cutting out almost immediately.
No markings. No official insignia. It didn't look like a police car or even one of the nondescript DOS vans Kael occasionally saw.
A figure emerged from the driver's side. Tall, dressed in dark, practical clothing beneath a long coat that shed the rain effortlessly. They moved with quiet efficiency, stepping over the curb and approaching the half-open door. Kael couldn't make out their face in the gloom, but he didn't need to.
The Loom, ever helpful, provided an identifier, etched onto the rain-slicked window beside the figure's head.
[Entity Detected: Human (Augmented?) - Affiliation: Unknown (Querying Database...) - Resonance Signature: Shielded, High Discipline - Intent Profile: Observation, Assessment]
The figure paused just outside the doorway, their head tilting slightly as if listening to something Kael couldn't hear. They didn't try to enter, didn't call out. They just… watched him. Kael stood frozen behind the counter, the spilled salt forming a gritty halo around his feet. The silence stretched, thick with unspoken questions and the lingering scent of ozone and fear.
The figure raised a hand, not in greeting, but holding a small, dark object. They scanned the front of the bodega, the device emitting a faint, almost subliminal hum that made Kael's teeth ache. The Loom reacted instantly.
[External Scan Detected - Frequency Band: Metaphysical Spectrum - Attempting Counter-Analysis...]
[WARNING: Scan Intrusive - Targeting User Resonance Signature]
The figure lowered the device, seemed to nod once to themselves, then turned without a word and walked back to the sedan. They got in, the engine started with a low whisper, and the car pulled away from the curb, disappearing into the rain-swept night as silently as it had arrived.
Kael was left standing in the semi-darkness, the silence now feeling heavier, more ominous. The Void Echo was gone. But someone knew. Someone with shielding, technology, and an interest in him had arrived moments after the event. Was it the DOS? Another faction? Or just someone drawn by the ripple effects of his desperate defense?
He looked down at his trembling hands. The Loom wasn't just a weird sensory feed anymore. It was a vulnerability. A beacon. And apparently, he wasn't the only one who could detect its signal. He wasn't just compromised. He was exposed.
The Loom offered one final, chilling thought, whispering it like ice down his spine:
[Long-Term Analysis: Probability of Future Anomalous Encounters: Significantly Increased - Recommended Action: Develop Understanding & Control of Loom Interface]
Understanding and control. Right. Easy for the disembodied cosmic diagnosis system to say. Kael just wanted to survive until sunrise.