Episode 17 - The Glimmer at the Edge

Thursday began quietly.

Bernard floated by mid-morning with a ribbon-tied stack of misfiled film reels and muttered something about “chronological sabotage.” Charles waved at her through a mirror. Miss LaDonna left a small box of fruit preserves labeled “For fortitude.”

Everything felt… normal.

Almost too normal.

The first sign came at 11:08 AM.

Olivia stepped into the hallway to stretch her legs—just a quick loop past the kitchenette and back—when she caught a flicker of movement.

A shadow, just out of sight, ducking around the corner near Studio E.

She peeked around it.

Nothing.

But the hallway lights were still swinging, like someone had passed through moments before. And there was a faint smell of her shampoo lingering in the air.

Olivia stood there for a long time, ears alert, tail still.

Then she returned to her desk. Didn’t mention it. Didn’t write it down.

Just filed it under: Watch that hallway later.

The second sign came through the security feed.

She was sipping her tea—“Centering,” now brewed without her needing to ask—and casually flipping through camera angles when it caught her:

Monitor 7A.

Olivia. Standing in the hallway near the Archive.

Still. Expressionless. Eyes locked on the camera.

Tail unmoving. Ears too still.

She leaned forward, frowning.

The figure blinked.

And then turned and walked into the shadows.

Gone.

Olivia rewound the feed.

Static. No file.

Just a sticky note on the monitor she hadn’t noticed before. In Bernard’s sharp, scratchy handwriting:

“Check twice. Believe once.”

The third sign was not a moment, but a feeling.

She walked past the Vault—just in passing—and felt it.

Like pressure behind her eyes. Like something watching her from the other side of the sealed door. The handle was warm. Not hot. Just recently touched.

She didn’t open it.

She stood there for a full minute, ears flicking, tail curled.

And then she whispered, “I know you’re here.”

A moment later, the lights dimmed. The hallway flickered. And the Vault made a sound she had never heard before.

A low, questioning thump.

Bernard appeared at her desk around dusk.

Floating low. Quiet.

“I think she’s circling the Vault,” he said without preamble.

Olivia didn’t ask who. She knew.

“She can’t get in,” he added. “Not without you.”

Olivia stared at the hallway.

“So what do we do?”

Bernard’s eyes blinked, all at once.

“Now,” he said softly, “we prepare. And we listen very, very carefully.”

The monitors flickered.

For just a moment, all of them showed the same thing:

Olivia’s desk. Empty. But a cup of tea, still steaming.

Then the feeds returned to normal.