As we continued walking down the same alley for what felt like the hundredth time, I could sense the cracks forming in the dream. The subtle changes I'd been making—flickering lights, distorted shadows, repeating elements like that stray cat—all of it was beginning to destabilize the magician's control. It wasn't obvious, not yet, but the dream was starting to buckle under the strain of maintaining the illusion.
I glanced at the others. Miratsuka was still buzzing with excitement, her eyes darting around like she was waiting for something big to happen. The Class rep was quiet, her nervousness palpable as she stuck close to me, her fingers gripping the straps of her school bag so tight her knuckles were turning white. Frostina, as always, remained cool and composed, though her sharp eyes were constantly scanning the surroundings, missing nothing.
