Travis adjusted the dials on his spirit-realm chronometers, checking them one last time before the crowd arrived. The device sparked, sending purple lightning across its face. He needed this demonstration to go perfectly if he wanted to break the world record for highest bounce. But the chronometers had other plans. The compass needle began spinning wildly, leaving glowing trails that spiraled upward like tiny tornados. Blue and gold light crackled across the measuring pole he'd positioned beside the vine-covered arena. A dozen onlookers had already gathered, pointing and whispering. Travis felt his stomach tighten. He could cancel the demonstration. He could pack up his equipment and try again tomorrow when the dimensional interference settled down. But the crowd was watching him now, waiting to see what he would do. Their eyes gleamed with curiosity. Someone in the back called out, asking if the show was starting soon. Travis grinned and cracked his knuckles. The chronometers shot another arc of purple lightning, and he waved his arms overhead like a circus announcer. "Ladies and gentlemen, you're about to witness scientific precision at its finest!" he shouted. The compass spun faster, painting rainbow circles in the air. He marched toward the center of the arena, his equipment crackling behind him like fireworks. If his tools wanted to make a scene, he'd give them a performance they'd never forget.

The chronometers shrieked, their purple lightning splitting into three jagged forks that punched through the air above Travis's head. The crowd gasped and stumbled backward. Travis felt the hair on his arms stand straight up as energy crackled through his arena. A tear opened in the sky, its edges glowing violet against the green canopy overhead. The rift widened with each pulse from the chronometers, pulling at the vines that framed his arena. Travis's measuring pole toppled sideways, its laser grid flickering out. He needed to ground this energy before the whole structure collapsed, but his equipment was the source of the problem. Shutting it down might work, or it might make the rift explode. He spotted a stone well at the edge of the arena, its metal funnel pointing skyward like it was built for exactly this moment. Travis grabbed a net of woven vines from the arena wall and sprinted toward the chronometers. The devices sparked and hissed as he wrapped them in the net, their energy arcing through the vines. He hoisted the whole bundle over his shoulder and ran for the well, feeling the heat sear through his shirt. He hurled the wrapped chronometers into the funnel. Energy poured down through the crystalline pathways carved into the bedrock, lighting them up like blue fire. The rift overhead shuddered, then sealed shut with a sound like tearing fabric in reverse. Travis collapsed on his knees beside the well, watching purple smoke rise from where his chronometers had been. The crowd stood frozen, staring at him. His best measuring equipment was gone, melted into the stone. He'd have to track his record bounce attempt with nothing but his eyes and his gut.