Nathan spent the following days in a haze. Life in the bookstore had returned to normal—sort of. Customers came in, browsed, and left, the shelves filled with the same dusty books they always had. But every time Nathan touched a book or turned a page, his mind flashed back to the stone. The feeling of its smooth surface against his hand, the pulse of energy that had surged through him—it was as though something had been awakened inside him, a force he couldn't yet control.
It was subtle at first. A flash as he went beneath the archaic fluorescent lights. The sensation of being watched, a weight in the air that didn't belong. It was the kind of unease that might be written off as paranoia, if only it weren't happening so often.
But then the oddities escalated.
It started with small things: Pens rolling away from school desks although nobody was approaching, books tumbled from shelves although nobody had even brushed them. The low hum of an old speaker, that is, the vibration of the speaker, coming from the store, only to disappear when he attempted to identify where it came from.
Nathan made an effort to not pay it any attention, putting it down to stress and/or to the fact of the time of year that might be influencing his experience. But when a heavy book slid off the counter and almost hit him in the face without any apparent cause, his unease turned to suspicion. He could no longer dismiss the events as coincidence.
That evening, following the departure of mr. jenkins, the day, nathan went to check. He locked the door behind him and made his way to the back of the store, where the stone had been sitting. His hand hovered above the counter where he had last seen it, but it wasn't there anymore. Panic clawed at his chest. Had someone taken it? Maybe it had been a dream, or maybe he had imagined the whole thing.
But then, he saw it.
Lying behind a stack of old paperbacks, the stone gleamed in the dim light. It was right there where he'd put it, unmoved, still buzzing with that same uncanny energy.
Nathan reached for it again. This time, there was no hesitation. His fingers made contact with the stone, and instantly, a similar cold shock did shoot up his arm like a spray, followed by the cold shock in his chest and back through all his finger tips. The sound of the stone grew to a deafening buzz, filling his ears and vibrating in his very marrow.
The world began to shift.
To begin with, it was the subtle deformation, i.e., a ripple in the surrounding air space surrounding him. But then, the room around him started to warp. The walls seemed to bend inward, the shelves growing taller, their contents stretching and distorting as if reality itself was being twisted like taffy. His vision blurred as if something was trying to pull him out of the store, out of his body.
Nathan gasped, and instinctively, he let go of the stone, stumbling backward. The distortion vanished as soon as the stone left his hand, and the bookstore returned to its dull, mundane state. His heart pounded in his chest, his mind racing.
What was happening to him? What was that? Why had it felt so real?
A noise behind him made him freeze. He turned around, his breath caught in his throat.
Standing at the threshold of the backroom at that place was Mr. Jenkins. His expression was different—less the kindly old man who owned the store and more like a person who had seen too much, someone burdened with a secret that threatened to consume him.
"Mr. Jenkins..." Nathan began, but his voice faltered. He didn't know what to ask, what to say.
Jenkins didn't move. His eyes were fixed on Nathan, then flickered briefly to the stone on the counter. "I knew it was only a matter of time, he muttered to himself.
Nathan took a step forward. "What do you mean? What's happening? What is this thing?"
Jenkins heaved a deep breath, his eyes lost and wafting back seemingly to a time long ago forgotten. "You shouldn't have touched it. I warned you."
Nathan frowned. "You warned me? You knew this would happen?"
Mr. Jenkins nodded slowly, then took a few steps forward. "I did. I've been waiting for this day for a long time, Nathan. It's why I've kept the stone hidden here. It's not just any artifact. It's a Fragment. And it's not the only one."
Nathan's stomach dropped. "A Fragment? What are you talking about? What does it do?"
Jenkins' eyes darkened. "That's what you're about to find out. However, before that, it should be known that there are, in fact, those forces in this world—those, i.e., the unseen forces, that are after those Fragments as well. And the moment you've touched one, you'll step into something intended for someone else. You're no longer just a bystander. You're a target."
Nathan swallowed hard. He had always considered his life as mundane, routine. But now, everything had changed. This world he had once known was suddenly filled with dangers he didn't understand, dangers that could swallow him whole if he wasn't careful.
"I don't know what to do," Nathan muttered.
Jenkins' voice softened. "You don't have a choice. You've already set things in motion. Next, you will need to learn how to regulate what's inside you, so that it does not regulate you.
Before Nathan could respond, Jenkins turned and walked back toward the back room. "Come with me. We need to talk."