Chapter 13 - Phasing Problems

"Stop flickering and just grab the coffee already."

Max concentrated, trying to force his hand to maintain solid form long enough to pick up the mug Charlie had brought. His fingers phased through it twice before finally achieving enough solidity to grip the handle.

"This is ridiculous," he muttered, carefully raising the mug to his lips. "Three days and I still can't control it."

Charlie watched with undisguised fascination from his perch on the windowsill of Max's apartment. The kid had appointed himself official courier-hero assistant during Max's recovery, bringing updates from Harbor News and the streets along with much-needed coffee.

"It's still pretty cool," Charlie observed. "Like you're half-ghost or something."

"Less cool when you keep dropping things, phasing through chairs, or having parts of your body randomly disappear during conversations." Max took a grateful sip of coffee. "Mr. Donovan's going to fire me if I can't do deliveries soon."

"No way!" Charlie exclaimed. "You're the company hero now. He's been showing reporters your desk like it's some kind of shrine."

Max groaned. "That doesn't make me feel better."

His enhanced healing had repaired most physical injuries from the explosion, but the molecular instability persisted. According to Mrs. Chen and Mentis's combined expertise, the energy wave had fundamentally disrupted his phase-shifting ability, leaving him stuck between states.

The apartment door opened without a knock, and Mrs. Chen entered carrying a small wooden box.

"Your control is improving," she noted, seeing him successfully holding the coffee mug. "But too slowly. These may help."

She opened the box, revealing two metallic bands inscribed with intricate patterns similar to the spiral on his Rumor costume.

"Quantum stabilizers," she explained. "Adapted from technology from my world, modified with Mentis's assistance for your specific condition."

"Bracelet therapy?" Max asked skeptically.

"The patterns create resonance fields that should help your molecular structure maintain consistent state integrity," Mrs. Chen said, placing the bands on the table. "They won't fix the underlying issue, but they'll provide stability while you recover."

Max set down his coffee and picked up one of the bands. It felt unusually warm in his hand, vibrating subtly against his skin. "How do they work?"

"By reinforcing your natural state—your self-perception at the quantum level," she replied. "Think of them as training wheels for your molecular structure."

Max slipped the bands onto his wrists. The effect was immediate—the random phasing stopped, his body solidifying completely for the first time in days.

"That's amazing," he breathed, flexing his fully tangible hands.

"Don't become dependent on them," Mrs. Chen cautioned. "They're temporary measures. Your ability needs to relearn proper function naturally."

Charlie had moved closer, examining the bands with naked curiosity. "These things are seriously cool. Got any extras?"

"No," Mrs. Chen said firmly. "And they would be extremely dangerous for someone without Max's quantum structure."

The kid looked disappointed but quickly bounced back. "Almost forgot why I came! Huge news from downtown—Rumor was spotted closing anomalies near the financial district this morning."

Max exchanged looks with Mrs. Chen. Shimmer was maintaining the Rumor persona during his recovery, ensuring both identities remained publicly active and separate.

"How's Rumor doing out there?" Max asked casually.

"Pretty good," Charlie replied with a knowing smirk. "Though people are saying he seems different somehow. More... technical? Less flashy?"

That tracked with Shimmer's precise, efficient style compared to Max's more improvisational approach.

"Anyway," Charlie continued, "Mr. Donovan wants you back tomorrow if you're up for it. Says, and I quote, 'Tell Peterson his heroic vacation days are used up.'"

Max smiled despite himself. "Sounds like him."

After Charlie left, promising to return with dinner later, Mrs. Chen's expression grew serious.

"We need to discuss what you saw beneath the plaza," she said. "The Engineer you identified as Victor Kane."

Max had been expecting this conversation. "You recognized something about him. Called him an 'Observer.' What did that mean?"

Mrs. Chen was silent for a moment, as if weighing how much to reveal. "In my world's final days, certain individuals were... transformed... to document the collapse. To record and analyze how reality failed, presumably to prevent similar outcomes elsewhere."

"You're saying the Engineers were originally created to study reality collapse, not cause it?"

"The distinction became blurred over time," she said carefully. "What began as observation evolved into intervention. Some believed controlled dissolution was preferable to chaotic collapse."

Max thought about the implications. "So future-Shock is part of some group that's been watching realities collapse and decided to start managing the process instead?"

"An oversimplification, but essentially correct." Mrs. Chen's ancient eyes held shadows of memories Max couldn't begin to comprehend. "The troubling question is why they've focused so specifically on you."

"Because I'm this Consensus Avatar thing?"

"Perhaps. But their interest seems more personal than theoretical." She studied him intently. "The Engineer didn't attempt to kill you, despite multiple opportunities. Its comments about your choices suggest a more complex agenda."

Before Max could respond, his new Guardian-issue communicator activated with Mentis's distinctive alert tone.

"Mr. Peterson, your presence is requested at Guardian Tower immediately," came the scientist's voice. "Anomaly patterns have shifted significantly."

"On my way," Max replied. "New crisis?"

"New opportunity," Mentis corrected cryptically. "Mrs. Chen should accompany you. Her expertise will be valuable."

The call ended abruptly, leaving Max staring at his now-stabilized hands. "Well, that was mysterious."

"Mentis does not request urgent meetings without significant developments," Mrs. Chen observed, already gathering her things. "We should go."

Max nodded, grabbing his jacket. The stabilizer bands gleamed on his wrists, their patterns catching the light with an almost hypnotic quality. For the first time in days, he felt like himself again—solid, present, capable.

Whatever new development had emerged, Max Peterson was back in action. Though as he caught his reflection in the mirror—the familiar face with the unfamiliar metallic bands—he couldn't help wondering if he was still the same person who had fallen into this strange adventure weeks ago.

Or if, like Shock, he was gradually becoming something else entirely.

---

Guardian Tower's command center buzzed with unusual activity when Max and Mrs. Chen arrived. Holographic displays showed New Harbor from multiple angles, with colored indicators marking anomaly locations. But unlike previous patterns, these anomalies formed a perfect geometric arrangement across the city map.

"This isn't random," Max observed immediately.

"Correct," Mentis confirmed, approaching from a nearby workstation. His blue scarf was slightly askew—a sure sign of intense focus overriding his usual precision. "The pattern emerged approximately three hours ago. All existing anomalies shut down simultaneously, then new ones appeared in this exact configuration."

Lumina joined them, her white and gold uniform showing signs of recent field action. "We've been monitoring them, but they're behaving differently from previous rifts. No expansion, no energy fluctuation, just... sitting there."

"It's a message," Mrs. Chen said quietly, studying the pattern. "The configuration is a commonly used multidimensional communication structure."

All eyes turned to her.

"You recognize this?" Mentis asked.

"Yes. It's a basic geometric language used across dimensional boundaries." She pointed to specific nodes in the pattern. "These are anchor points, these define context, these carry specific data packets."

"The Engineers are trying to communicate?" Lumina looked skeptical. "Why not just talk to us directly, like they did with Max?"

"This isn't from the Engineers," Mrs. Chen corrected. "The syntax structure is different—more organic, less precise. This comes from another source."

Max stepped closer to the display, something about the pattern triggering recognition. "It reminds me of what the first entity tried to show me—the Warning Entity at the university."

"Precisely," Mrs. Chen nodded. "This appears to be from the same class of entities—dimensional beings attempting to warn inhabitable worlds about imminent degradation."

"Can you decode it?" Mentis asked.

"Partially. The basic structure indicates urgent communication regarding temporal convergence points." She traced the pattern thoughtfully. "But full translation requires direct interaction with one of the anomalies."

"Out of the question," Lumina stated firmly. "Direct contact with dimensional anomalies is strictly prohibited under current protocols."

"Unless," Mentis interjected, "one possesses unique interaction capabilities already proven effective." He looked pointedly at Max. "Your phase-shifting ability, particularly in its current semi-stable state, creates unusual opportunities for safe communication."

"You want me to talk to whatever's sending this?" Max asked. "After I just barely survived the last underground adventure?"

"These anomalies show none of the destabilization markers that preceded the plaza incident," Mentis assured him. "All readings indicate they're specifically designed for information transfer, not physical transit or energy release."

Max glanced at Mrs. Chen, who nodded slightly. "It's likely our best opportunity to understand what we're facing. The Warning Entities have been trying to help us—we should listen."

"Fine," Max agreed reluctantly. "But I choose which anomaly to approach, and I want backup nearby."

"Agreed," Lumina said. "I'll accompany you personally."

That wasn't what Max had expected. "You will?"

"Someone needs to make sure you don't get yourself killed playing interdimensional telephone," she replied with a hint of a smile.

Max was suddenly acutely aware that this would be their first field mission together, with Lumina knowing him as Max rather than Rumor. It added a layer of complexity to an already complicated situation.

"When do we leave?" he asked, trying to sound professional.

"Immediately," Mentis answered. "The pattern has remained stable, but we cannot predict how long this communication window will remain open."

As preparations began, Max examined the stabilizer bands on his wrists. They had maintained his molecular integrity so far, but direct interaction with an anomaly would put them to a real test.

He just hoped whatever message was waiting for him would be worth the risk. The last conversation with an interdimensional entity had nearly gotten him killed—and revealed a future he wasn't sure he wanted to know about.

But if the alternative was remaining ignorant while reality unraveled around them, what choice did he really have?