The meeting point idea spread faster than Shunya expected.
Not officially.
No announcements. No organization. No leader standing above everyone giving orders.
Just conversations.
One transmigrator telling another. Groups discussing possibilities in small restaurants, quiet alleys, rooftops, training grounds. The uncertainty surrounding Stage 2 had begun pushing people together in strange ways.
And fear, even quiet fear, made people practical.
Shunya sat near the balcony railing of the apartment, lazily turning a small metal coin between his fingers. Below, New Fornia continued its usual rhythm. Vendors shouted. People bargained. Children ran through the streets.
Normal.
Painfully normal.
Vikoria sat nearby with her legs pulled loosely against the chair, staring toward the city with narrowed eyes.
"…You've been thinking too much again."
Shunya glanced sideways.
"…I always think."
"No. This is the annoying kind."
"That's specific."
"It should be."
