The corridor didn't feel unstable anymore.
It felt strained.
The difference was subtle, but once James noticed it, he couldn't unsee it. The unevenness that had been spreading earlier wasn't actively worsening now. It had settled into the space like tension that hadn't been released properly, pressing against everything just beneath the surface.
The Vice Guild Master stood near the densest section, his attention fixed on it with a focus that made it clear he wasn't guessing anymore—he was measuring.
When he spoke, it was directed at James.
"You can feel where it's failing," he said.
James nodded. "Yeah. It keeps trying to line things up, but it never lands right."
"That's because it doesn't have a stable reference anymore," the Vice Guild Master replied. "Whatever disrupted it didn't just distort the surface. It broke the alignment it was correcting toward."
Mira shifted slightly beside them. "So it's correcting blindly."
"Not blindly," he said. "Imprecisely."
James frowned, tracking the movement again. The pattern was still there—consistent, persistent, almost stubborn. It kept attempting to settle, but every pass left it slightly off, forcing another attempt that drifted further from where it should have been.
"…It's chasing something it can't reach," James said.
The Vice Guild Master glanced at him briefly. "Exactly."
The man folded his arms, watching the space with narrowed focus. "Then forcing it won't work. You'll just push it further off."
"I already confirmed that," the Vice Guild Master said. "Power alone isn't enough here."
Mira looked between them. "Then what is?"
The Vice Guild Master didn't answer immediately. His gaze returned to James.
"What you did earlier," he said. "When you weren't forcing it."
James exhaled slowly. "I wasn't doing anything on purpose."
"You were," he replied. "You just didn't understand it yet."
That was fair.
James stepped forward.
The distortion responded immediately, tightening slightly—not aggressively, but with awareness. It recognized the same presence it had reacted to before.
This time, James didn't push into it.
He focused on the underlying motion instead.
The flow was still there—uneven, layered, slipping out of sync with itself. Instead of resisting that instability, he followed the direction it was trying to move in, letting his attention settle into that current.
The moment he did, the pressure shifted.
Not outward.
Inward.
"…It's responding," he said quietly.
"Stay with that," the Vice Guild Master said. "Don't try to fix it yet."
James nodded once.
He kept his focus steady, letting the pattern become clearer instead of forcing a result. The more he followed it, the more distinct it became—not just a vague correction attempt, but something structured, almost like a path that had been bent out of place.
And along that path—
something moved.
It wasn't unfamiliar anymore.
The same current he had brushed against before surfaced again, this time without resistance. It ran along his arm, gathering at his fingertips, not in bursts or flashes, but in a clean, controlled line that responded directly to his focus.
Mira watched it form, her voice quieter now. "You are doing it."
"It was always there," James said, his eyes still on the distortion. "I just wasn't using it right."
The lightning didn't flare outward.
It traced.
A thin line extended from his hand, aligning with the distorted flow in front of him. The moment it made contact, the reaction was immediate—but different from before.
The space didn't push back.
It adjusted.
The misaligned layers shifted, not violently, but with a kind of reluctant precision, as if something had finally given them the direction they'd been missing.
James felt the change as clearly as he saw it.
"That's it," he said under his breath. "It needs something to follow."
"Then give it that," the Vice Guild Master said.
James stepped forward again, guiding the current along the most uneven sections. He didn't rush. Every movement was deliberate, matching the pace of the correction instead of overriding it.
Where the lightning passed, the distortion tightened—
then settled.
The overlapping inconsistencies that had been stacking on top of each other began to resolve, each layer snapping closer into place as if the space itself was remembering how it was supposed to exist.
Mira's focus sharpened as she tracked the change. "It's not just stabilizing—it's aligning."
The man didn't speak, but his attention never left the space. He'd already understood.
James continued, moving through the remaining dense areas.
Each pass became easier.
The resistance that had been there earlier wasn't gone, but it wasn't fighting him anymore. It was following, correcting along the path he set, closing the gaps that had been building since this started.
The pressure in the corridor dropped steadily.
Not in bursts.
In a smooth, continuous release.
James reached the final section—the point where everything had first begun to accumulate the most.
He paused for half a second, focusing fully.
Then he moved.
The current sharpened slightly, becoming more precise. It traced through the last uneven layer, cutting cleanly across the misalignment that had refused to settle earlier.
For a brief moment, everything held.
Then—
it clicked.
The distortion didn't shift again.
It resolved.
The unevenness flattened completely, the lingering tension in the air releasing all at once—not explosively, but cleanly, like something finally snapping into its correct position after being forced out of place for too long.
James lowered his hand slowly, the current fading with it.
The corridor went still.
Mira exhaled, the tension leaving her posture all at once. "It's… gone."
The man stepped forward, scanning the area carefully. He didn't rely on assumption—he checked.
A few seconds passed.
Then he gave a small, definitive nod.
"Resolved," he said.
The Vice Guild Master didn't move immediately. His gaze remained on the space where the instability had been, as if confirming it in his own way.
Finally, he turned to James.
"You didn't suppress it," he said. "You completed the correction."
James let out a slow breath. "It felt like it just needed direction."
"It did," the Vice Guild Master replied. "And you were the only one here who could give it that."
That wasn't praise.
It was a statement of fact.
Mira glanced at James, a faint shift in her expression that hadn't been there before. "So that's what your 'interference' actually does."
James shook his head slightly. "I don't think that's the right word anymore."
A brief silence followed, not tense this time—just the natural pause after something significant had ended.
Then the Vice Guild Master turned.
"Come with me," he said.
James looked at him. "Now?"
"Yes."
Mira crossed her arms lightly. "You're not wasting any time."
"There's nothing to wait for," he replied. "He needs to be seen."
The man stepped forward without hesitation. "Then I'm coming as well."
The Vice Guild Master gave a short nod and started walking.
This time, no one questioned it.
As they moved deeper into the building, the shift in environment became obvious. The corridors narrowed, traffic disappeared entirely, and the atmosphere grew quieter—not empty, but controlled in a way that made it clear this section wasn't for general use.
James walked in silence, his focus drifting back to what he had just done.
The current.
The alignment.
The way the space had responded once he stopped forcing it and started guiding it.
It hadn't felt like power in the usual sense.
It had felt like understanding.
Ahead, a set of reinforced doors came into view.
They didn't slow.
The Vice Guild Master reached them first. The doors opened immediately, as if they had already been expecting them.
He stepped through.
James followed, Mira and the man close behind.
The space beyond was different.
Quieter.
Heavier.
And for the first time since this started—
James had the distinct feeling that whatever came next wouldn't be something he could figure out on his own.
The Vice Guild Master didn't stop as he entered.
He only said one thing.
"The Guild Master is inside."