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Rising Pressure

Chapter: Rising Pressure

The clock on the wall ticked with maddening precision, each second marked by a hollow sound that echoed through the otherwise silent room. Bahaa sat hunched over his desk, his fingers drumming against the surface as he stared at the sphere. It had grown warmer in recent days, its glow now pulsing faintly in sync with his own heartbeat. The sensation was unsettling, as if the artifact were alive and aware of his every move.

Selene leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, her dark eyes fixed on Bahaa with a mixture of concern and irritation. "You're wearing yourself thin," she said, her voice sharp but tinged with worry. "This thing—whatever it is—is messing with your head."

Bahaa didn't look up. "It's not just a thing, Selene. It's a key. A bridge to something bigger than both of us."

"Bigger doesn't always mean better," Selene shot back. She stepped closer, her boots clicking against the wooden floor. "You're obsessed. And obsession has a way of eating people alive."

Bahaa's hands stilled, his gaze finally meeting hers. "Maybe that's the price we have to pay. Maybe that's the only way to uncover the truth."

Selene's jaw tightened, and she exhaled sharply. "You don't even know what you're looking for anymore, do you? Or are you just chasing shadows now?"

He didn't respond, and the silence that followed was heavy with unspoken tension. The air between them felt charged, as if the room itself were holding its breath, waiting for something to break.

The pressure began to manifest in other ways. Strange phenomena occurred around the dorm. Lights flickered without explanation, objects moved on their own, and the air grew thick and oppressive, making it difficult to breathe. Selene's psychic senses buzzed constantly, an unrelenting static that left her on edge.

One night, as she sat alone in the common area, she felt it again—a presence watching her. She turned sharply, her eyes scanning the shadows, but there was nothing there. Just the faint hum of the refrigerator and the distant sound of rain against the windows.

"Bahaa," she muttered under her breath. She rose to her feet and made her way to his room, her steps quick and purposeful. She pushed the door open without knocking, her frustration bubbling over. "We need to talk."

Bahaa was seated on the floor, the sphere resting in his lap. Its glow bathed his face in an eerie light, casting strange shadows across his features. He didn't look up, but his voice was calm and detached. "What is it now, Selene?"

"This," she said, gesturing to the sphere. "It's not just affecting you anymore. It's bleeding into everything. The dorm, the people around us... me."

Bahaa's lips curved into a faint smile. "That's because it's reaching out. It's alive, Selene. It's trying to connect."

Selene's hands clenched into fists at her sides. "Connect to what? To who? Do you even understand what you're dealing with?"

Finally, Bahaa looked at her, his eyes gleaming with an intensity that sent a chill down her spine. "No. But that's the point, isn't it? To find out."

Days turned into weeks, and the pressure continued to build. Selene's patience wore thin as Bahaa delved deeper into the sphere's mysteries, his behavior growing increasingly erratic. He spoke in cryptic phrases, his thoughts fragmented and scattered. He spent hours staring into the glowing artifact, his mind seemingly lost in its depths.

One evening, Selene decided she'd had enough. She stormed into Bahaa's room, her anger simmering just below the surface. "This ends now," she said firmly. "Whatever this thing is doing to you, it's not worth it."