The motel room's overhead light flickers as I spread Rachel's research across both beds. Even with the device's damping field active, my agitation affects nearby electronics. James lies still in the quantum dead zone, his mind hopefully rebuilding the boundaries between dimensional perceptions.

  "Okay," I mutter, organizing files by type. "Okay. Focus."

  The darkness behind my eye pulses as I begin scanning documents - some in normal text, some in quantum patterns that only make sense when viewed from multiple dimensional perspectives simultaneously. Rachel's research is comprehensive, detailed, and terrifying in its implications.

  "Natural quantum sensitivity appears in approximately 0.01% of the population," one file reads. "Most cases manifest as minor perceptual anomalies - déjà vu, pattern recognition beyond normal human capability, awareness of probability fluctuations..."

  I glance at James. The device shows his quantum signature finally stabilizing, consciousness pulled back into normal space-time. But for how long? And at what cost?

  Another document catches my eye: "Bloodline analysis suggests increasing frequency of sensitivity markers. Genetic predisposition combined with environmental quantum exposure creates compound effect. Each generation shows higher potential for natural dimensional awareness."

  The darkness pulses as I find records about my mother's bloodline. Charts tracking quantum sensitivity through generations, showing gradual increase in natural ability to perceive other spaces. Not just my mother, but grandmothers, great-grandmothers, all the way back to...

  "First recorded instance of significant sensitivity: 1847. Subject displayed unusual awareness of 'thin places' in reality. Able to perceive and interact with quantum states without artificial enhancement. Church authorities attempted to control and replicate ability through ritual. Results: catastrophic."

  I remember Rachel's words about the Church discovering what was already there. About them trying to force and control something that was happening naturally, if slowly.

  More files. More data. More understanding of what natural sensitivity really means:

  "Human consciousness appears to be evolving toward natural quantum awareness. Process is gradual, generational. Attempts to accelerate evolution through artificial means result in unstable quantum states. See: Church seeding process, forced transcendence, ritual enhancement..."

  On the bed, James stirs slightly. The device shows his neural patterns returning to normal human baseline, but there's something else - traces of quantum perception that didn't exist before. Like his mind has been permanently altered by exposure to natural dimensional awareness.

  "Once consciousness glimpses reality's true quantum nature," another document reads, "complete return to normal perception becomes impossible. Mind retains awareness of other dimensional states even when unable to fully process them. In severe cases, this awareness can fragment consciousness across multiple quantum states simultaneously."

  I think about Adrian, about how the Church's forced evolution left him trapped between states. About how different natural sensitivity feels - not forced through ritual and ceremony, but flowing naturally between dimensional layers.

  The darkness pulses as I find research about bloodline enhancement: "Pregnancy during active quantum perception creates unique conditions. Fetal consciousness develops without normal dimensional constraints. Results in natural ability to perceive and interact with quantum states. WARNING: Process cannot be artificially replicated. Forced enhancement during pregnancy results in severe neural damage to both mother and child."

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  My mother's choice. Her decision to maintain quantum contact throughout pregnancy, to let my consciousness develop without normal perceptual limits. But she did it willingly, naturally, working with her innate sensitivity instead of forcing it.

  More files. More data. More understanding of what we really are:

  "Natural quantum sensitivity represents evolutionary adaptation to reality's true nature. Human consciousness expanding to perceive multiple dimensional states simultaneously. Process should occur gradually over generations. Artificial acceleration creates unstable quantum signatures, fragmented consciousness, permanent neural damage."

  I look at James again, at the quantum dead zone protecting his mind from awareness it's not ready to handle. The device shows his consciousness stabilizing, but changed. Altered by exposure to natural dimensional perception in ways that can never be fully undone.

  "Once initiated, quantum awareness cannot be reversed," another document confirms. "Mind retains understanding of reality's multiple states even when unable to fully process them. Best case scenario: gradual adaptation to increased perception. Worst case: permanent consciousness fragmentation across quantum states."

  The darkness pulses as I find Rachel's personal notes about the Church:

  "They fear natural evolution because they cannot control it. Their power depends on being gatekeepers to quantum perception, on controlling access to other dimensional states through ritual and ceremony. Natural sensitivity developing in the general population threatens their entire power structure."

  Finally, records about consciousness fragmentation and recovery:

  "Complete quantum isolation appears to allow mind to rebuild normal perceptual boundaries. Duration required varies by exposure level and individual neural resilience. WARNING: Repeated exposure without adequate recovery time results in permanent consciousness fragmentation. No known treatment."

  I check the device's readings. James has been in the dead zone for four hours. His neural patterns are stabilizing, but the traces of quantum perception remain. His mind has glimpsed too much of reality's true nature to ever go back to complete normal awareness.

  "I'm sorry," I tell his unconscious form. "I should have known. Should have protected you better."

  The darkness pulses as I continue studying Rachel's research. Files about natural sensitivity increasing in the population. Data about consciousness evolution happening slowly, generationally. Warnings about the dangers of forced acceleration.

  And through it all, one clear message: what I am - what people like me are - represents natural human evolution. The Church's attempts to control and replicate it through ritual and ceremony are not just dangerous but fundamentally wrong. Like trying to force a flower to bloom by tearing it open.

  A sound from James makes me look up. His eyes are moving under closed lids, consciousness perhaps dreaming of quantum states it was never meant to perceive all at once. The device shows his neural patterns still stabilizing, still trying to process awareness that came too fast, too completely.

  "Two more hours," I say, though I'm not sure he can hear me. "Two more hours in the dead zone. Then we'll see... we'll see what's left."

  The darkness pulses quietly as I return to Rachel's research. Time to understand what natural sensitivity really means. Time to learn how to help minds adapt to quantum awareness without shattering under the weight of too much reality too fast.

  Time to figure out how to protect people from what the Church is trying to force, and what evolution is trying to do naturally.

  One dimensional perception at a time.

  For however long it takes.

  The light flickers again as I spread out more files, more data, more understanding of what we really are. Outside, reality continues its normal flow, unaware that human consciousness is slowly, gradually learning to see through its quantum layers.

  And beside me, in his quantum dead zone, James dreams of spaces between spaces that his mind will never completely forget.

  For better or worse.

  For however long consciousness holds together.

  The darkness pulses, and somewhere in spaces between spaces, evolution continues its slow, careful work.

  Whether we're ready for it or not.