Chapter 10: The Shelf That Waited for Her
They found the market by accident.
Half the windows were smashed, half were still untouched—like someone had started panicking and then stopped halfway through.
It was too quiet.
Aria stepped through the glass door, broken chime dangling above her head. She held her breath.
Selene followed silently behind her, knife drawn. She moved like a shadow, light-footed, alert.
"I don't think anyone's been here," Aria whispered.
"Someone has," Selene said. "But not recently."
"How do you know?"
Selene crouched beside a crushed juice box. "The blood is dry."
⸻
They moved slowly through the aisles.
Canned goods. Dehydrated noodles. A pack of chocolate biscuits still sealed.
Aria's stomach growled.
"I'll try it here," she said, lifting the tote bag she carried—half-empty.
Selene raised an eyebrow. "You sure?"
"No," Aria muttered. "But I'm tired of guessing."
⸻
She closed her eyes.
Let her mind fold inward—toward that space that had no floor, no ceiling, just hers.
The air bent. The world blinked. And in one smooth motion—the bag disappeared.
Selene didn't flinch.
She just nodded once. "Do it again. With more."
⸻
They moved through the market like quiet ghosts.
Aria opened her space again and again—storing water bottles, stacked cans, rice, dried fruit, small knives, matches. Her breath grew faster each time.
"It's expanding," she whispered. "I can feel it."
Selene watched her carefully. "And you're not losing energy?"
"No." Aria blinked. "It feels like it's waiting for more."
⸻
They reached the freezer aisle.
Dead air. Flickering lights. Frosted-over packages of meat that should've gone bad long ago.
Aria paused in front of the glass.
Selene moved closer. "What is it?"
"I wonder…" Aria opened the door. Reached for a frozen bag of raw fish.
"If I store it now," she said softly, "will it still be frozen when I take it out?"
Selene tilted her head. "Test it."
⸻
Aria closed her fingers around the package and summoned the space again—cold air rushing past her skin as it vanished.
Five seconds later, she pulled it back out.
Perfectly frozen.
Selene exhaled through her nose. "Time really doesn't move in there."
Aria stared at the bag in her hands. "It's not just storage," she said quietly. "It's… preservation. Like a pocket universe."
She didn't say it out loud, but it chilled her.
It's a place only I can enter.
Only I can leave.
It belongs to me—and me alone.
⸻
They didn't speak again until they left the store.
Outside, the clouds were darkening.
Somewhere in the distance, a siren wailed.
Not the kind that warned of storms.
The kind that warned of containment breaches.
Aria looked up. "That's new."
Selene didn't look up. "No," she said. "It's starting."