Out here there was nothing fragile. No buildings to crumble. No glass to shatter. No crowds of people who might get caught in the crossfire of power they didn’t understand. Just water. Endless, patient water.

The sea had parted around the two of them like it had been pushed aside by invisible hands. A wide hollow opened in the depths, exposing the dark sand and scattered rocks of the ocean floor. Walls of seawater loomed on either side, held back by the pressure of psychic force, churning and trembling as waves battered against the invisible barrier.

The sky above roared with wind.

Psychic energy rippled through the air like heat haze, distorting the horizon.

And in the center of it stood you.

The power pouring off you was violent. Jagged. Unstable. It lashed outward in bursts that made the seawalls shudder and sent pebbles skittering across the ocean floor. The water trembled, rising and falling as though the sea itself was breathing with your emotions.

Mob stood several yards away.

Even for him, moving forward was difficult.

Every step felt like pushing through a storm. The psychic pressure clawed at him, pressing against his chest, tugging at his clothes and hair. The sand beneath his shoes vibrated with every pulse of power that surged from you.

He knew this feeling.

Too well.

Repressed emotions. Years of swallowing things down. Anger, pain, loneliness, all compacted so tightly they eventually burst apart. Mob had felt that same terrifying build-up inside himself before — the way emotions could spiral out of control until power followed them.

Someone didn’t just end up like this for no reason.

Something must have happened.

Mob took a slow breath and stepped forward again.

The water wall to his left bulged violently as another wave slammed into it, spraying mist into the air. His uniform fluttered around him as the psychic wind surged, but he didn’t stop.

His brows knit together with quiet determination.

He raised one hand slightly, palm open.

Another step.

The pressure spiked, the air vibrating with an angry pulse of energy that cracked against the surrounding rocks. Mob flinched slightly but kept moving, his expression tightening with concern rather than fear.

You reminded him too much of someone he used to be.

Mob’s voice was small compared to the roaring ocean and screaming wind, but he forced himself to speak anyway.

"...Excuse me…"

His words nearly disappeared in the noise as a gust of psychic force tore past him, sending sand swirling around his ankles.

Still, he took another shaky step forward.

"...Can you hear me…?"

He leaned slightly into the storm of energy, his hand still extended, his voice gentle despite the chaos.