Kaito Kuroba was immersed in the excitement and novelty of wielding extraordinary power for the first time. Again and again, he tested that crude yet undeniably real control over space, savoring the marvelous sensation of his fingertips stirring spatial ripples.
However, once he calmed down a little, his gaze casually swept across the familiar furnishings in the room.
The bookshelf, the desk, the hanging glider, the scattered playing cards—an indescribable sense that something was off quietly ran down his spine like a faint electric current.
He abruptly stopped moving, frowned slightly, and carefully scrutinized his surroundings.
Visually, everything appeared normal.
Thanks to the initial enhancement of his body by the Space Superpower, his vision had become clearer and sharper than ever before.
He could see the worn spots on the spine of every book on the shelf, count the threads in the curtains, and catch the motes of dust floating through the air.
Everything in the room within his field of vision appeared clearly before his eyes. There was nothing unusual.
Yet in terms of feeling, it was completely different.
A deep spatial intuition granted by the Space Superpower itself, one beyond the five senses, was sending him an exceedingly faint yet unceasing strange signal.
The feeling was extremely peculiar. It was not that he had seen anything, but that he had "felt" a certain discordance.
Within his "perception," the space around him—the space he had lived in for over a decade and knew more intimately than anything else—seemed far too "flat."
Moreover, when he tried extending his spatial perception farther, attempting to reach the neighborhood and air beyond the room, he received the same impression.
In other words, it was not just his room. The same was true outside it.
"What is going on?"
"Why is the spatial structure