It was raining properly now. The slow, annoying kind that soaked you without ever committing.

  Kam stood under the bus shelter with Taylor, Leo, Marcus, and Maya. The digital sign said the bus was due in 2 mins. It had said that for the last eight.

  Cars hissed past. Somewhere unseen, someone’s speaker blasted drill too loud, the bass arriving before the sound.

  Kam felt it before he saw it.

  Not heat.

  Not weight.

  Attention.

  Across the road, three older boys loitered outside the off-licence. Same age bracket as Marcus’s brother. Same loose energy. Bored. Looking for friction.

  One of them clocked Kam. Nudged the others.

  Kam didn’t move.

  “Don’t,” Maya said, low.

  “I’m not.”

  “They’ve clocked you,” Taylor whispered.

  “That’s aggro range,” Marcus said.

  Leo glanced at his phone. “Distance-wise? Yes.”

  The tallest of the three stepped off the curb. Testing.

  “You lot waiting long?”

  “Bus,” Marcus said.

  “Mad unreliable, innit.”

  He stepped closer. Close enough to smell weed and rain and cheap aftershave losing a fight.

  “You the ones from that shop video?”

  Taylor’s jaw tightened. “What shop video?”

  Wrong answer. The tall guy grinned.

  “The one where man goes flying like he clipped through a wall.”

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  One of his mates snorted. “Looked fake.”

  The tall guy’s eyes flicked to Kam.

  “You fake?”

  Kam felt the disc against his arm. Cold. Heavy. Waiting.

  “Don’t,” Maya said.

  “I know.”

  Kam stepped forward. One step. Not into them. Into space.

  “Bus is coming,” Kam said.

  “Rah.” The tall guy laughed. “Man speaks.”

  He reached out. One finger to Kam’s chest. A probe.

  The disc hummed. Pressure.

  Kam did nothing.

  The finger pressed again.

  “Say something else.”

  “Bro—” Marcus tensed.

  Too late.

  Kam micro-loaded.

  Not his arm.

  Not his chest.

  His stance.

  CRACK.

  The pavement split under his heel. Just a hairline fracture. Loud enough.

  The tall guy froze. Finger still on Kam’s chest. He felt it now — the density.

  “What the—”

  Kam leaned in slightly.

  “Don’t touch me again.”

  The air went thick.

  The tall guy ripped his hand back. His mates stepped away.

  “Nah,” one muttered. “Leave it.”

  The tall guy laughed, thin. “Man thinks he’s a boss now.” He backed off. “Stay safe, yeah?”

  They retreated to the shop entrance. No fight. No clip. Just friction.

  The bus pulled in. Doors opened. Everyone exhaled.

  Upstairs, Kam dropped into a seat, heart pounding after the moment, not before.

  “Your load curve changed,” Leo said.

  “I know.”

  “That was cold,” Taylor said. “You didn’t even touch him.”

  “You scared him without swinging,” Marcus said.

  “That was you choosing,” Maya said.

  Kam looked out the window. The lads outside were already laughing again. The moment passed. It didn’t vanish.

  “Harry would’ve frozen that,” Kam said.

  “Harry would’ve rerouted them,” Leo said.

  “But you didn’t delete them,” Taylor said.

  Kam flexed his foot. The ache was there. Deep. Manageable.

  “That’s better,” Kam said.

  Maya smiled. Small.

  “You’re still here.”

  The bus rattled forward into the rain. Not safe. Not optimized. But present.

  Harry stood under the shelter alone. Hood down. Hands visible.

  The sign said 2 mins.

  Across the road, three older boys loitered. Same boredom. Same loose energy. One clocked Harry. Harry clocked all three.

  The tall one stepped off the curb.

  “You waiting long?”

  Harry smiled. Open. Harmless.

  “Yeah. These buses are a myth.”

  The tall guy stepped close. One finger to Harry’s chest.

  Harry didn’t stop it.

  He exhaled. Stepped back.

  His heel slid on wet concrete.

  The tall guy leaned wrong.

  They collided.

  Not a move. A mess.

  SNAP.

  The tall guy hit the ground hard. Wrong. He screamed.

  Harry stumbled back, palms up.

  “Oh—shit.”

  People were looking. One mate backed off. The other had his phone half-raised.

  Harry looked at it.

  Once. Flat.

  The phone lowered.

  Sirens chirped somewhere distant.

  Harry stepped onto the bus as it pulled in.

  Upstairs. Back seat. He sat.

  Only then did his hand start shaking. He pressed it between his knees until it stopped.

  His phone buzzed.

  ANOMALOUS FORCE EVENT — LOW SEVERITY

  LOCATION LOGGED

  PASSIVE REVIEW QUEUED

  Harry closed it. Looked out the window.

  The tall guy was still on the ground. People were filming now.

  The bus pulled away.

  The story wouldn’t die clean.

  It would smear.

  Harry didn’t smile.

  .