The bus was late.
Asher stood at the stop with his hands in his hoodie pockets, rocking slightly on his heels while pretending he wasn't calculating wind direction, crowd density, and the structural integrity of the nearby streetlight.
Be normal, he reminded himself. You are waiting for a bus. Buses are harmless.
The bus was not harmless.
It arrived with a screech, brakes howling like they were being personally offended by friction. People shuffled forward, phones out, expressions set to public transport resignation.
Asher stepped on and grabbed a strap.
The bus lurched.
Hard.
A woman yelped as she stumbled. Someone dropped their coffee. A kid laughed like this was the best ride he'd ever been on.
Asher adjusted his stance automatically—knees soft, weight centered.
"…Stop that," he muttered to himself.
The bus continued down the street.
Then it hit a pothole.
A real one.
The kind that felt like the city had briefly decided to remove a piece of road.
The bus jolted violently. A metal bang echoed from underneath, followed by a hiss.
The bus tilted.
People screamed.
The driver swore.
Asher's heart slammed into his ribs.
No. No no no.
The bus rolled to a stop at a bad angle, half-tilted toward the curb. A panel near the rear popped open, smoke curling out.
Someone shouted, "Is that normal?"
Someone else shouted, "I don't think that's normal!"
Asher swallowed.
The pressure behind his eyes sharpened.
[Notice]
Unplanned external hazard detected.
"I did not ask," Asher whispered.
[Clarification]
No request was required.
The driver stood up, pale. "Okay, everyone stay calm—"
The bus shifted again.
Asher felt it before it happened.
The angle changed. The center of gravity shifted just enough.
The bus was going to tip.
Time slowed.
Asher's brain screamed don't.
Don't draw attention. Don't be seen. Don't do anything stupid.
But there were people here.
Real people.
Not system projections.
Not dungeon constructs.
A kid.
An old man gripping a pole too hard.
The woman with the spilled coffee trying not to cry.
Asher exhaled.
"…Fine," he muttered. "I guess this counts as an emergency."
[Emergency Override – Available]
He didn't even read the rest.
Asher moved.
He stepped off the bus as it tilted further, boots scraping pavement, and planted himself against the side of the vehicle.
The metal was cold.
Heavy.
Very heavy.
Asher braced.
Impact Redistribution activated automatically.
[Impact Redistribution – Active]
The bus shifted again.
Pain flared across his back, shoulders, legs—everywhere.
The force spread.
Asher gritted his teeth.
"…Oh wow," he hissed. "This is a terrible idea."
The bus creaked.
People screamed again—this time louder.
Asher adjusted his footing, sliding slightly, then correcting with a subtle Kinetic Step to re-center his weight.
Not flashy.
Not fast.
Just… right.
"GET OFF THE BUS!" the driver yelled.
People scrambled toward the doors.
Asher held.
Every second felt like lifting the world.
His arms shook. His legs burned.
[Notice]
Fatigue accumulation critical.
"Yeah," Asher gasped. "I'm aware."
The last passenger stumbled free.
The bus lurched once more.
Asher pushed back with everything he had left.
For one terrifying moment, it didn't move.
Then—
The bus settled.
Not upright.
But stable.
It leaned against the curb at an awkward angle—but it stopped.
Silence fell.
Asher stood there, chest heaving, hands still pressed to cold metal.
"…Okay," he whispered. "We're done now."
[Emergency Override – Concluded]
The pressure receded.
Asher staggered back and leaned against the streetlight, trying not to collapse.
Someone clapped.
Then another.
Asher looked up in horror.
"Oh no."
People were staring.
Phones were out.
The driver ran over. "Did you—did you just hold the bus?"
Asher laughed weakly.
"…No?"
The driver blinked.
"…Yes?"
Sirens wailed in the distance.
Asher's stomach dropped.
This is bad. This is very bad.
[Notice]
Public exposure threshold exceeded.
"YOU THINK?" Asher hissed.
Maya's voice cut through the noise.
"Asher?!"
His head snapped up.
She was pushing through the small crowd, eyes wide.
"…Why are you here," he muttered faintly.
She stopped in front of him, staring from the bus to him and back again.
"…Did you just," she said slowly, "stop a bus?"
Asher opened his mouth.
Closed it.
"…Momentum is a suggestion," he said automatically.
She stared.
"…You're saying that a lot."
He slumped against the pole.
"Okay," he said. "I can explain."
"Please do," she replied. "Because the news is already here."
Asher glanced over.
Cameras.
Microphones.
A reporter talking excitedly into a camera.
"…Oh," Asher said. "That's worse."
A system window flickered.
[Notice]
External visibility event recorded.
Rank stability evaluation accelerated.
Asher laughed weakly.
"…Of course it did."
Maya grabbed his arm, steadying him.
"Whatever this is," she said quietly, "we are talking later."
He nodded.
"…That's fair."
Asher looked at the bus.
At the people.
At the cameras.
For the first time, secrecy wasn't slipping.
It had broken.
And somewhere deep inside Heaven's Heart—
The system recalculated everything.