2 Observation

Luke's gaze remained fixed on the golden strings. All of them were moving towards him in a very sluggish manner. With that, it was difficult for them to touch Luke as long as he was alert.

Luke sighed and pursed his lips. didn't outwardly show clear anxiety, this observation didn't alleviate his internal fear. Instead, it heightened it. 

This was because the strings continued to pursue him as though fixated on his touch. From their sluggish movements, it seemed they wouldn't cease until they caught him and achieved their objective.

'Will they ever stop? What would happen if I exhausted all my energy and were caught by them?' Despite his anxiety, Luke swiftly devised escape strategies.

He grabbed his shoulder bag from the sofa and hurled it at the strings, but it passed through them as if they were mere illusions.

Luke stared at them deeply and then fetched a knife from the kitchen and sliced one of the leading strings.

To his surprise, it cut through, causing the lower part to fall to the ground. The severed string wriggled momentarily before losing its golden luster and then slowly fading into nothingness.

On the other hand, its remaining half, the one that was still attached from the ceiling down, writhed as if in pain from Luke's action.

Seeing this, Luke didn't hesitate to cut the other golden strings before retreating from the kitchen back to the living room.

Yet, before he felt any relief, when the strings on the ground had completely vanished, those from above grew more threads instead. And in a short period of time, they returned to their original length and resumed their initial sluggish movement. 

Luke's hand that was holding the knife trembled slightly as he backed against the wall where the bag he had thrown earlier lay on the ground.

Feeling the touch of the bag with his foot, Luke glanced thoughtfully at the knife in his hand.

'Why did the bag pass through but the knife didn't? Is it related to sharpness?' 

He crouched down and grabbed the messenger bag. As one of the strings drew nearer, he swung the bag at it again. This time, the bag didn't pass through. Instead, the string tangled with it briefly before its tip attached itself to the bag.

Upon noticing this phenomenon, he immediately threw the bag away and evaded the other strings. He watched as the string that had attached itself to the bag scurried away and began to follow him again incessantly.

His eyes flickered with realization as he considered the difference between throwing and holding. He rubbed his fingers together, contemplating.

'It's about contact, not sharpness. Moreover, the string attached itself to the bag. While it's odd, the good thing is I didn't feel anything. So… it must be safe as long as there's no direct contact. Maybe if I let them touch something else, I can avoid playing this unending game of cat and mouse.'

With this thought, Luke decided to take a bolder approach. He grabbed a broom from the corner and held it up high, moving closer to the strings so they could touch the bristles.

And just as he suspected, there was indeed a connection between contact. When all the strings attached themselves to the bristles, they finally stopped their relentless pursuit and no longer behaved stubbornly. Instead, another change occurred.

From their tips, the wiggling strings immediately straightened. When Luke shook the broom, the strings that extended from the ceiling followed its movements obediently. No matter how vigorously he shook it, the strings remained straight and unwavering, refusing to tangle or resist.

Sensing that this change posed no immediate danger, Luke allowed himself to relax a bit but still maintained a sufficient level of caution. Though the immediate threat seemed to have subsided, the persistent presence of the strings meant that danger could resurface at any moment. This ever-present risk kept him on edge that he couldn't help but bite his lips tightly.

The only good thing was that he now had a moment of respite to think more clearly and observe the situation more deeply without the constant need to evade the strings..

It was well past midnight, and despite having slept for at least five hours, Luke still felt groggy from fever and hunger. In fact, due to his temperature, he briefly entertained the notion that perhaps all of this was merely a product of his fever-addled imagination. 

However, he quickly dispelled any doubts. The vivid golden strings hovering above him were undeniably real. No matter how much he wanted to escape from reality, he had to face them headward.

The questions that lingered in his mind was, "Where did they come from? What triggered this phenomenon?"

Luke had no answers, but the urgency to find them gnawed at him. The feeling of dread that washed over him was palpable as he realized the eerie similarity between this experience and the puppet show he had seen at the circus before.

'The strings are obviously not scientific; they're a product of mystical phenomenon,' Luke mused, his voice barely above a whisper. 'They're like the strings in marionettes, with an unseen marionettist manipulating them from above.'

The realization sent shivers down his spine, 'I have a strong premonition that once I let them touch me, I will always be at the mercy of that entity.'

Luke stared at the ceiling in silence for a moment before he moved to the curtained window. While holding the broom on one hand and the knife on the other, he slowly drew the curtain open, just enough to peer outside. 

Just as expected for midnight, the street and the building across him were enveloped in darkness. Only the faint glow of streetlights illuminated the area, casting eerie shadows on the deserted sidewalks.

The outside was also filled with total silence as the people at this hour were mostly at their beds, resting.

Luke once again glanced back at the ceiling and in a short seconds later, with a steady hand, he carefully opened the glass window.

Then, he moved the other hand holding the broom near the opening and slipped the broom so that the bristles were placed outside.

While doing it, Luke was filled with tension as he didn't know if his set of actions would produce detrimental effects to him. Yet despite the fear welling within him, his face still remained unperturbed and free from worries. Additionally, from his eyes, although difficult to detect, there was even a hint of profound curiosity hidden within.

As the edge of the broom made contact with the night air, Luke leaned in closer to the window, his gaze scanning the night sky.

"As expected." Luke murmured. 

To his dismay, the golden strings didn't end at the ceiling but extended far beyond, disappearing into the vast expanse of the sky. This meant that whoever was trying to manipulate him wasn't a neighbor or an entity that he could see and fight anytime. Instead, their power might be more potent than he could ever have imagined. 

Realizing this, Luke's eyes flashed as he quickly retreated from the living room window to his bedroom. There, he saw another set of golden strings coming from the floor and extended up to the ceiling. 

However, unlike his, their golden hue lacked intensity. Although similarly golden, they weren't as gold as his. Additionally, as they approached the ceiling, their radiance was turning illusionary until any color from them vanished.

This revelation only meant one thing. It came from the person residing below, specifically to his neighbor sleeping as of the moment.

This observation proved that this situation wasn't unique to him but perhaps had been present to other people as well. The only thing that made him different was he was able to see them. 

'It's as if I suddenly became self-aware…'