Footprints In The Static
"You shouldn't have started running," he said again, this time quieter. Like the words themselves were a secret with teeth.
We stood in a patch of dying grass under the shadow of the broken clock tower. Crickets chirped. The city buzzed distantly behind us, normal as ever. But I could feel something beneath it all — the static hum I was starting to associate with… glitches.
I took a breath. "I didn't choose to. It just happened."
He didn't move. Just studied me like I was some broken vending machine that spat out a live snake instead of snacks.
"Then you're a natural."
A beat.
"Or a mistake."
I scowled. "Look, I just want to know what's going on. What the hell is happening to the city? Why can I see things other people can't?"
That's when he finally relaxed a little. He exhaled and glanced at the shimmering footprints behind both of us — fading slowly in the grass like echoes.
Then he said, "Call me Nao. And I'll tell you what I know. But it's not gonna make anything better."
We sat by the edge of the river, legs dangling over a collapsed footbridge that now led to nowhere. He tossed me a bottle of water from his sling bag. I drank like I hadn't seen liquids in years.
"I've been running for two months," Nao said, staring at his reflection in the black water. "First time, I thought I was hallucinating. By the third, I knew I wasn't."
He pointed up at the sky — still cracked faintly, like spiderwebbed glass only we could see.
"This world is unstable. Some of us can see it. Even fewer can… hold it together."
I frowned. "By running?"
"Exactly. Our motion disrupts the decay. Like heat sealing a wound shut. But it's temporary. If we stop for too long—"
He made a slicing motion with his hand. "Reality starts bleeding again."
I blinked. "Wait—so what, we're janitors for space-time now?"
He laughed. And it wasn't bitter — it was tired. Real tired.
"That's one way to put it."
"But why us?"
"No one knows. Some say it's guilt. Others say it's trauma. A broken mind sees a broken world more clearly. I just think we were in the wrong place at the right time."
I rubbed my arms. The air was colder now. Too cold for July.
Then he got quiet.
"You've heard them, haven't you?" Nao asked. "Voices while you run."
I nodded slowly. "My sister's. She's… gone."
"Not gone," he said. "Just somewhere else."
I turned to him, heart skipping. "What do you mean—?"
And that's when the sky tore open.
It happened so fast.
One second, we were talking — the next, the world inhaled.
That's the only way I can describe it.
The sky above us pulsed like a heartbeat, then caved inward, dragging the clouds into a spiral hole. A ring of fractured color opened mid-air — purples, blues, blacks, and static — like someone had punched through reality with a celestial fist.
The clock tower bent — I mean literally folded at a 90-degree angle — like it was made of rubber and screamed as it stretched.
Birds froze midair.
The grass pixelated.
A boat on the river lifted off the water and drifted upward like helium.
"Nao—!" I yelled.
"DON'T STOP RUNNING!" he shouted, already on his feet.
The pull of the rift was strong — like gravity forgot which direction it was supposed to go. I could feel my shoes lift slightly off the ground as pebbles and trash cans flew past us into the hole.
We ran.
As I sprinted, I looked back once — just once.
What I saw will never leave me.
The rift was growing teeth. Black, jagged shapes were forming along its edges — like a mouth gnashing reality into pieces. And inside… I swear I saw eyes. Thousands. Watching. Blinking.
Not human.
Not angry.
Just… hungry.
When we finally outran the pull, the sky sealed behind us with a snap.
No thunder. No wind.
Just a ripple in the air, and then silence.
We collapsed in an alleyway. Our breath was the only sound.
"Wh-what… what the hell was that?" I gasped, chest heaving.
Nao didn't answer at first. Just stared at his hands.
Then, quietly:
"That was a rip. A full one."
"And if we hadn't run… we'd be unmade."
"You're in this now, Rei. Whether you like it or not."