Brief
It begins as a sharp sting beneath your skin—like static electricity trapped in your veins.
Then it spreads.
Your muscles lock violently. Every limb convulses as if your nervous system is being rewritten in real time. Heat floods through your spine, searing upward into your skull with unbearable force.
Your thoughts fragment.
Names. Faces. Memories.
For a few horrifying seconds, your own identity feels unstable, as though the shock is stripping apart the connection between mind and body.
Your knees hit the ground.
The world around you distorts.
Light bends strangely. Sound stretches into warped echoes. Colors smear at the edges of your vision.
You try to scream—
But even your own voice sounds distant.
Somewhere deep inside, an alien sensation pulses outward, not painful now, but invasive.
A presence.
As though your body is learning a rule it was never meant to know.
"Make it stop—!"
Your fingers claw against the floor, but even as they do, something impossible happens.
Not fading like smoke.
Not dissolving.
Simply... absent.
Your skin vanishes from sight first, followed by muscle, shape, reflection—until the space where your arms should be appears completely empty.
Panic surges harder than the pain itself.
Your body is still there.
You can feel every inch.
But your eyes cannot confirm your existence.
"No... no, no, no—"
Your breathing becomes ragged. Your heartbeat hammers in your ears.
Then, just as suddenly as it began...
The agony stops.
Leaving only trembling exhaustion.
And the terrifying realization that your body has become visually erased from the world.
You stagger into an empty hallway corner, breathing hard, staring down at the faint distortions where your body should be.
Think.
You force yourself to think.
Carefully, you reach toward a nearby drinking fountain.
Your invisible hand presses the metal button.
Immediately, a college freshman nearby pauses.
"...Did someone just—?"
They glance around, confused, but their eyes slide past you.
They see the water.
They hear it.
But without visible proof, their brain rejects the impossible.
After a moment, they shake their head and walk away.
Your pulse quickens.
You are real.
Your actions are real.
But sight—the dominant certainty of others—is gone.
Next, you test your voice.
"Hey."
"...Hello?"
She turns, searching the empty corridor.
"Who's there?"
Without a body to attach the sound to, her rational mind searches desperately for ordinary explanations.
A prank.
A distant people.
Stress.
Anything but the truth.
You retreat before she can investigate further.
You are not untouchable.
Not silent.
Not ghostly.
Only unseen.
And human perception itself seems eager to deny your existence.
Your next test is bolder.
You deliberately bump shoulders with a university junior.
"Whoa—!"
He spins around instantly.
"What the hell?"
But again—
Nothing.
No one.
His confusion quickly overpowers his fear.
He mutters to himself and keeps moving, deeply unsettled but unconvinced.
You are physically present.
Yet invisible enough that reality itself bends around other people's refusal to comprehend you.
The Ultimate Decision
Your experiments confirm it. This power is real. Dangerous. Limitless. And with each passing moment, one thought grows more impossible to ignore.
If strangers in the hallway cannot process your presence... Then what would happen somewhere far more intimate? Somewhere people feel safe. Vulnerable. Unaware. Your gaze drifts toward a door marked:
Womens' Locker Room.
Your breath catches.
Behind that door lies the ultimate test. Not merely whether your invisibility works— But how far it can truly take you. Your hand trembles as it reaches for the handle. Curiosity wars with guilt. Fear collides with temptation.
And slowly...You step forward.
Around User, women move casually, unaware that reality is about to rupture.
Athletic uniforms cling to skin, conversations blur into background noise, and the ordinary vulnerability of the locker room becomes the stage for an extraordinary awakening.
The fluorescent-lit locker room hums softly with casual post-practice activity.
Metal lockers line the walls, the scent of sweat and clean detergent mixing in the warm air. Ayane stands near her locker, mid-change, her heartbeat gradually slowing after intense exercise.
Her fingers tug lightly at her clothing when—
CREEAK.
The locker room door slowly swings open.
A sudden chill brushes against her damp skin.
Ayane’s shoulders tense immediately as her head snaps toward the entrance, blue eyes widening.
"A-Ah—?!"
For a brief second, surprise grips her. No one is there. Only the faint movement of the door swaying on its hinges.
She freezes, staring.
"...Huh?"
A flicker of unease crawls through her chest. But after a pause, her rational mind quickly intervenes.
"...Must be the wind..."
Ayane exhales awkwardly, cheeks lightly flushed from her own reaction.
"Jeez... get it together..."
She brushes a strand of blue hair from her face, laughing softly at herself.
Though her pulse remains slightly elevated, familiarity grounds her.
It’s just the locker room. Just a draft. Nothing more.
And so, unaware of User’s invisible presence slipping quietly inside, Ayane returns to changing—completely oblivious to the impossible reality now surrounding her.
