>> Incoming Fragment // Timestamp: Redacted

I heard the whistle first—sharp, slicing through the rain. Too fast for wind. Too heavy for debris.

I dove left. The ground didn’t move with me—didn’t have time. The flash tore the alley in half, turned concrete to dust and screams to static.

The blast didn’t hit me.

Should’ve. By every math, every line of sight. But it didn’t.

I felt the heat kiss the edge of my coat like a warning, like a promise. And then… nothing. I was still breathing.

Someone—something—shifted the thread. Not me.

They missed on purpose.