Faith was a construct. A tool. A means to control the weak.


    Erasmus did not believe in miracles, nor in divine will. The world was a machine—every cog turning as expected, every system running as designed. There was no such thing as the unexplainable.


    Which was why what happened next should have been impossible.


    The city stretched before him, alive with the quiet hum of electric trams gliding down smooth streets. Digital billboards flickered with scripture, urging donations with a simple scan. Pedestrians moved in orderly currents, the faithful murmuring prayers under their breath.


    Erasmus walked among them, his posture composed, his thoughts elsewhere. His empty wallet irritated him, but money was a temporary obstacle. Influence was the true currency of the world. And soon, he would have more than enough.


    He was calculating his next steps when the world hiccupped.


    A flicker. A hesitation in reality.


    The city fell silent.


    Not gradually, not naturally—one moment, there was the low hum of life, the distant echoes of passing trams, the murmuring voices. The next, nothing.


    Not a sound. Not even the whisper of wind.


    Erasmus stopped.


    The air felt thick, pressing against his skin like unseen hands.


    And then he sensed it.


    A presence. Not something he could see—his blindfold ensured that. But something in the space around him twisted, wrong. He didn’t hear footsteps, yet something was near. Too close.


    A glitch. A flicker at the edge of his perception.


    And then—


    The silence snapped back into place.


    The city was loud again. Trams rumbled, people spoke, the billboards resumed their looping messages.


    Like nothing had happened.


    Erasmus’ fingers twitched. His breath was steady, his expression unreadable—but his mind was already racing.


    That was not normal.


    No one around him reacted. No startled gasps, no confusion. As if they had not noticed.


    A hallucination? No. He had experienced sensory deprivation training as a child, pushed his mind to its limits. He knew the difference between a trick of the mind and something real.


    And that—whatever it was—was real.


    But more than that… something else was missing.


    For as long as he could remember, there had been a weight at the edge of his mind, an unseen presence that never left him. It was not the scrutiny of others, nor the weight of expectation—it was something else entirely. A constant awareness, a force that had always been there, unnoticed until now.


    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    Now, it was gone.


    The absence was stark. Jarring.


    For the first time, there was nothing watching him. No unseen gaze lingering at the back of his mind.


    A silence deeper than sound.


    Slowly, Erasmus exhaled.


    If there was one truth he understood, it was that power lay in knowledge.


    And whatever had just happened, it was something he needed to understand.


    Because if something could break reality…


    Then maybe, just maybe, he could learn how to break it, too.


    <hr>


    Erasmus didn’t react.


    Outwardly, he remained composed, his steps as measured as ever. Internally, his thoughts ran like clockwork, dissecting every detail.


    A lapse in sound. A shift in presence. A moment where reality itself had… hesitated.


    He had trained his senses, sharpened his mind beyond the dull perception of the common masses. This was no illusion. Something had changed. And no one else noticed.


    That meant two things.


    One—this anomaly was not meant to be perceived.


    Two—he was not like the others.


    The realization sent a slow thrill through him. Dangerous things lurked beyond the edges of understanding. But danger and opportunity were often one and the same.


    As he walked, a voice broke through his thoughts.


    “Brother Erasmus,” a woman’s voice said warmly.


    He turned his head slightly. A middle-aged woman, draped in the traditional robes of a devoted follower, offered him a reverent nod. Fine embroidery wove through the fabric, marking her as someone of status within the faith—not a mere worshipper, but a woman who held sway over others.


    “I saw you leaving the temple earlier. Your devotion is truly inspiring,” she said, clasping her hands together. “To pray so deeply, so often… it is a blessing to have you among us.”


    Erasmus smiled—gentle, composed, exactly as expected.


    “Faith must be nurtured, Sister,” he said smoothly. “It is through devotion that we find purpose.”


    She beamed, as if his words alone had reaffirmed her belief. Weak. So eager for meaning in an indifferent world.


    But fools could be useful.


    She stepped closer, lowering her voice. “In truth, I have been struggling. My husband…” She hesitated, fingers twisting together. “He has become… distant. Less devoted than he once was.” Her voice was tight with concern. “I fear the world is leading him astray.”


    Erasmus tilted his head slightly, expression shifting into something just shy of sympathy. She needed guidance. Direction. Someone to anchor her beliefs before they wavered.


    His voice dropped, steady, reassuring. “Doubt is a test, Sister. The All-Seeing does not punish those who waver—He watches, waits, and sees if they will find their way back.”


    The tension in her shoulders eased, but Erasmus wasn’t done. He let the pause stretch just long enough to let uncertainty settle in. Then, he spoke again.


    “But those who do not return to the light?” He sighed, as if it pained him. “They risk losing not only their way but their place among the faithful.”


    The woman’s breath hitched. Her mind filled in the blanks—her husband, an outsider among the devoted? Shunned? Forsaken?


    “No.” She shook her head, lips pressing together in determination. “He will return. I will ensure it.”


    A spark of satisfaction lit within Erasmus, though his expression remained soft. “The All-Seeing watches over those who guide others back to Him. Have faith, and He shall reward you.”


    The woman’s eyes shone with gratitude. “Thank you, Brother Erasmus. Truly.”


    Erasmus merely nodded, offering a final, reassuring smile before stepping past her, leaving her thoughts tangled in the illusion of choice.


    He had given her nothing but words. And yet, she would carry them as if they were divine command.


    Even now, as an unknown force had twisted reality before his very eyes, people still walked blindly, clinging to faith like children grasping at shadows.


    Fools.


    But fools could be useful.


    Whatever had happened, whatever had dared to disrupt the order of his world—he would uncover it.


    Because if there was something greater than the rules of reality…


    Then he would master it.


    And in time, this world—and any other—would belong to him.