The silence that followed Evelyn's arrival felt like its own entity—thick, expectant, pressing down on the circle like a held breath. Her silhouette, backlit by the shimmer of the stable node, appeared too calm for someone who had just stepped out of the unknown.
Her boots made no sound as she walked toward us, the shimmer behind her flickering like it might collapse under her absence. She moved like someone returning to a familiar place—confident, unhurried, and entirely aware that she had the upper hand.
I exchanged a glance with Bobby, whose usual curiosity had frozen into a silent calculation. Jacob's arms crossed over his chest, jaw tight. Ambrose—well, Ambrose looked like he was trying to decide whether to crack a joke or run for his life.
Evelyn's gaze swept across all four of us before settling on me.
"My name is Evelyn," she said. Her voice was soft but carried the weight of knowing. "And I didn't find the node. It found me."
Jacob took a step back—just half a pace, but enough to notice. Enough to echo something deeper.
"What the hell does that mean?" Bobby asked, eyebrows furrowed.
"It means," Evelyn said, "that this place chooses. And once it does… you don't get to walk away untouched."
The words hit like a cold wind. I could feel the others waiting for me to say something—to lead. But I was still staring at the shimmer behind her, watching it twitch and pulse like a living thing.
"What do you want from us?" I asked.
She didn't answer at first. Instead, she stepped closer to the edge of the node's light. The glow caught on her collarbone, illuminating a thin, jagged scar.
Ambrose's voice broke the tension. "That scar…" he whispered. "I've seen it before."
Evelyn turned to him, not surprised. "You have."
Bobby blinked. "Where?"
"I don't know," Ambrose admitted, his humor completely gone. "But I have."
There was a silence that stretched too long.
"You've all been touched by the fold," Evelyn said. "Some of you more than once."
"What are you saying?" Jacob asked. His voice was steady, but his arms were now uncrossed—his hands curled into fists at his sides.
Evelyn looked directly at me. "I'm saying that this isn't the first time you've stood here, Alex. And it won't be the last."
A chill wrapped around my spine.
"How would you know that?" Bobby demanded.
"Because I've watched it happen. Over and over."
Her voice was breaking, just a little. That calm mask cracked enough to show fatigue beneath it—a soul stretched thin by too many loops, too many beginnings and endings.
"I don't want it to happen again."
"What?" I asked.
"The collapse," she said. "The breaking. When one of you chooses the fold over the others."
Jacob's head snapped up. "Wait, are you saying one of us—"
"Yes."
Ambrose stepped back then. Not out of fear—but instinct. Like his body knew something he hadn't caught up to yet.
"Who?" Bobby asked.
Evelyn shook her head. "You won't believe me if I tell you. And you might try to change it. That's how the loop fractures."
"What if we want to change it?" I said.
She looked at me with something close to pity. "Then you already know who you are."
The silence that followed that was unbearable.
A wind stirred through the node. The shimmer behind Evelyn pulsed again—stronger this time. She turned, stepping back toward it.
"You won't remember all of this," she said. "Not yet. But when it matters—you will."
She took one final step into the node, the light wrapping around her like water folding over stone.
But just before she disappeared completely…
Her eyes remained.
For a heartbeat longer than the rest of her.
Watching. Waiting. Remembering.
Then they vanished.
Jacob turned on his heel and walked away without a word.
Ambrose let out a shaky breath. "That… wasn't terrifying at all."
Bobby remained frozen, staring at the empty air where Evelyn had stood.
"She knew something," he said quietly. "About us. About this place."
"No kidding," Jacob snapped from the edge of the clearing. "And we're just supposed to follow her into whatever that was? We don't even know what the loop is, let alone how to stop it."
"We will know," I said. "One step at a time."
But my voice was hollow.
Because I could still see her eyes in the dark.
Watching us.
Waiting for one of us to choose wrong.