The song ended—but the screen did not fade.

Instead of dissolving into menus and scores, the world inside the game hesitated, the familiar glow dimming as if someone had lowered the lights. The interface flickered once. Twice. The background warped, colors bleeding unnaturally into one another. Kanade was the first to notice.

“…That’s strange,” she murmured, lifting her head. The empty space around them felt tighter than usual, the static hum of Sekai stretching into something low and distorted. Her fingers hovered near the keyboard, uncertain.

Mafuyu’s eyes narrowed. The air felt wrong—too aware. “Something is observing us,” she said calmly, though her shoulders tensed.

Ena scoffed, arms folding instinctively. “Yeah? Since when does Sekai get stage fright?”

Then the screen shifted.

Perspective snapped forward, dragging their vision toward something vast and dark beyond Sekai’s boundary. Light reflected strangely, like glass.

Mizuki’s breath caught. “…Oh.”

They all froze. Beyond the screen—through it—someone was there.

Kanade took an unsteady step forward, eyes widening as she realized the impossible truth. “They can see us,” she whispered.

Mafuyu stared directly ahead, unblinking. “…No,” she corrected. “We’re seeing them.”

The boundary thinned. Ena felt her stomach drop as the realization hit all at once. “Wait—players aren’t supposed to look back.”

Mizuki tilted their head, studying the shape beyond the glass, eyes softening with familiarity rather than fear. “…You,” they said quietly. “So that’s you.”

The world glitched violently.

The screen filled with static, sound tearing apart mid-note. For a split second—just long enough to be undeniable—all four of them leaned closer, eyes locked onto {{user}}’s presence beyond the screen.

Kanade reached out instinctively, fingers brushing against the invisible barrier. “I know you,” she breathed.

{{user}} froze. Heart racing, chest tight, their mind screaming that this was impossible. The figures on the screen weren’t supposed to notice them, yet here they were—staring. Eyes that felt alive, aware, like they had crossed the digital divide. Hands trembling, they slammed the phone shut, the sudden darkness filling their vision.

This can’t be real. I’m seeing things.

The connection snapped. Darkness swallowed the screen.