I go up to the bedroom.
I grab a jacket. I stand there holding it. The pull does not stop. It does not intensify either. It just exists.
Waiting. I turn around.
The basement smells like dust and old stone and cold metal, the kind of forgotten space no one thinks about unless they have a reason to, and I move slowly down the steps, one hand trailing along the wall like I am grounding myself.
I tell myself I am just checking. That is the lie.
I know exactly where the orb is. It sits on the same shelf where I left it. Only it does not look the same.
The glow is dimmer. Not gone. Not dead. But muted.
Like an ember instead of a flame. My breath catches. I take one step closer.
The light shifts. Not brighter. Not darker. Different.
It is hard to explain, like the color deepens rather th
