"And here," Valeria murmured, voice low,

"the final piece aligns... yet something feels... amiss."

Richard’s frown deepened.

"Amiss? I see nothing irregular."

Her gaze swept the room, calculating, sharp as a blade, before settling on Dellaetrix.

"Not visible to ordinary eyes," she said, lips curling faintly.

Dellaetrix’s hand clenched the air where I crouched.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," he said firmly, voice low and unwavering.

"There’s no one here. Absolutely no one."

"Do you think so? Oh my, let’s see..."

Valeria’s eyes flickered toward the projection, sensing a presence... subtle, almost imperceptible, yet unmistakably real.

Her eyes then narrowed as she studied the projection, her fingers hovering above it.

"You see," she said slowly, her voice calm but deliberate,

"every living body emits a faint, specific magnetic signature. Invisible to the eye, inaudible to the ear — but tangible to those who know what to look for."

Richard leaned closer, frowning. "Magnetic... signature?"

She nodded, tracing an invisible line above the bracelet.

"A presence cannot hide. Even unseen, it leaves traces — the tremor of a hand, a breath caught too soon, the pulse within a voice. Only a trained observer notices it."

Dellaetrix’s eyes sharpened, suspicion flickering across his face. "Are you implying...?"

Valeria’s lips curved slightly, almost imperceptibly.

"Presence is never truly absent."

"The body’s emanations may betray, if one knows how to read them but..."

"Its movements, its weight in space, its very intentions — they leave marks, however faint."

Her tone dropped, almost to a whisper.

"One only needs to know where to look."

I pressed myself closer to the doorframe, heart pounding.

Only I could tell — reading the faint magnetic waves the body emitted, like a physical signature in the air, implying the existence of my subtle presence somewhere.

And she could already feel it.

Or rather—feel me.

Valeria’s voice still lingered through my ears, calm and deliberate.

"The body’s emanations may betray its presence, if one knows how to read them."

For a heartbeat, I froze.

The air shifted — my light, my pulse, something imperceptible but real, trembled between us.

She felt it.

The projection flickered; faint light began to take form.

My form. Barely formed within the air.

I didn’t wait. I turned, already moving through the corridor, every step measured against the pull of her gaze. Behind me, her words reached like threads through the air.

"A presence cannot hide..." she said.

I nearly smiled.

Not from arrogance, but from the irony of it — she was right. No one truly disappears.

When I heard Dellaetrix’s voice, I slowed.

"I’d like to apologize for saying this, Miss Christie," he said, tone even, rational.

"But what you’ve seen might be what we usually consider a hallucination."

A quiet laugh escaped me before I could help it.

Hallucination, is it? How convenient.

I pressed a hand to my chest, feeling the faint echo of the field I’d just withdrawn.She had sensed me. But too late — my presence dissolved before it could resolve into light.

And now, there were other things to attend to.

Kairi needed to know.

As my footsteps faded into the corridor, his voice lingered in memory — calm, authoritative, carefully composed.

A hallucination, he’d said.

How quaint. How merciful.

I almost laughed again, quietly this time. Not because it was untrue, but because it was the most elegant lie anyone could’ve told in my absence.

Dellaetrix, ever the diplomat.

He hadn’t defended me out of loyalty — no, his was the defense of a man preserving order, smoothing the wrinkles in reality so it wouldn’t tear.

And yet, in that small, deliberate gesture, he had unknowingly granted me refuge.

I wondered if he knew what he’d just done — if he’d sensed the faint distortion I left behind, the trace of a resonance that shouldn’t have existed.Perhaps he did. Perhaps that was why he spoke so quickly.

A hallucination...

The word played again in my mind, almost tenderly.He said it so easily, so confidently — as if my existence could be folded neatly into the margins of delusion. 𝑓𝘳𝘦𝑒𝑤𝑒𝘣𝘯ℴ𝘷𝘦𝓁.𝑐𝑜𝑚

And gods, I almost admired that.

Of all people, Dellaetrix knew how to maintain control — even if it meant labeling the unexplainable as madness.And for some reason, that made me laugh again, under my breath.

Was I flattered? Possibly.Offended? Undoubtedly.Entertained? Entirely.

Still, the image of his face — that measured calm masking a flicker of unease — wouldn’t leave.

He had seen something. He knew it, even if reason demanded he deny it.

And that, perhaps, was why I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

...No.

Stop.

I exhaled, letting the thought unravel before it could root any deeper.

I wasn’t about to spend another second analyzing a man’s choice of words like it meant something.

Dellaetrix, of all people.

I scoffed under my breath, almost amused by my own absurdity.

He could deny me all he wanted — call me a hallucination, a figment, an echo — and perhaps I’d let him.

Because really, what was there to gain from thinking about him?

I’d rather talk to his female counterpart instead — at least she might have the decency to admit she’s intrigued.

A small smirk tugged at my lips as I turned down the next hall.

Denial, perhaps.

But at least it kept me sane.

Even as I walked away, their voices still reached me — clear as crystal, thanks to the curse of heightened hearing I once called a gift.

"Still certain it was a hallucination, dear Professor?" Valeria’s tone carried that gentle incision she used in debate — soft enough to sound polite, sharp enough to draw blood.

Dellaetrix’s response came measured, deliberate. "Perception can deceive even the most rational of minds, Miss Christie. I prefer logic over ghosts."

"Logic," she repeated, as though tasting the word.

"Then perhaps you’ll explain how a spectral anomaly imitates human resonance — warmth, breath, residual aura. Tell me, Mister L’Etrange, since when did logic breathe?"

Richard shifted; I could almost hear the weight of his discomfort.

But Dellaetrix didn’t flinch. "If something did breathe," he said, "perhaps it wasn’t a ghost at all. Perhaps it was someone who didn’t wish to be found."

For a moment, silence — deep enough that even I hesitated to breathe.

Valeria exhaled slowly. "Then we’ll find her," she murmured. "Because presence denied," she paused, "is still presence detected."

Her words struck through the air like glass cracking — deliberate, inevitable.

And I, halfway down the hall, could only smile bitterly.

Of course she’d say that.

Of course she’d notice.

And of course she’d realize.

She never was a fool to begin with, after all.

That was the problem with Valeria Augustine Christie — she never guessed; she knew.

Every silence was a confession to her, every shadow a misplaced truth.

I should’ve run faster.

But then again, when has running ever saved me from her?