The night enveloped the room, its icy fingers seeping through the closed windows. Teri's heart raced as he finally mastered the art of detaching his threads—those ethereal strands that connected him to the world beyond. With deliberate control, he reeled them back into his fingers, weaving them into a compact form like tiny rings.
Selina materialized on the bed, her presence both comforting and enigmatic. "Didn't I tell you, little brother?" Her voice carried the weight of ancient secrets. "It's a dance of time and strength. This is merely the beginning."
Teri rose from the bed, muscles protesting after hours of immobility. He stretched, kneading the tension from his neck. "Where have you been? My body aches from confinement."
"A ghost, too, has a life," Selina replied. "You promised seven days here, remember? Now that you've mastered detachment, when will you make your move?"