The boardroom occupied the apex of Kalypsis Tower, a rotating dome of smart glass that offered a 360-degree view of the arcology sprawl and the restless bay beyond. Sunlight slanted through in sharp blades, catching motes of dust and the faint holographic projections that floated above the central table. Dr. Liora Nahn stood at the head, her posture relaxed but commanding, as if the room itself were an extension of her will.
Arin entered last, his compiled graphs already synced to the shared display. The board—ten figures in tailored suits and neural links—turned as one, their expressions a mix of curiosity and impatience. Elias Quan was not present, but his influence lingered in the undercurrent of skepticism that Arin always sensed in these gatherings.
"Analyst Vale," Liora said, her voice carrying without amplification. "Your flagged concerns from Lagos. The floor is yours."
Arin nodded and activated his packet. The dome's walls darkened slightly as the world map bloomed in the center: Lagos's white knot pulsing like a heartbeat, overlaid with the deviation clusters he'd isolated—Cascadia tremors, Mumbai ceasefires, the inland town's flooded blessing.
"Three events in the last twelve hours," he began. "All post-Lagos. Positive intents yielding suboptimal returns. Ambivalent clusters overperforming. Drift from baseline models: point-four percent and climbing."
Murmurs rippled around the table. A state rep from the Cascadia bloc leaned forward. "Suboptimal how? Casualties?"
"None," Arin said. "But the pattern matters. We're seeing returns route along latent fractures—old resentments, structural weaknesses—instead of pure uplift. Belief in the system as a 'judge' is introducing noise."
Liora crossed her arms, her lapel pin catching the light. "Belief is the point, Arin. It aligns them. Lagos proved that."
"Proved amplification," he countered. "Not precision. Direct witnesses to events like that act more, expect more. Their emotions tune to KFR as an entity. That warps the coherence fields."
The central projection shifted to his correlation graphs: belief intensity versus deviation rates, spiking in tandem. The board fell silent as the implications sank in.
A venture lead broke the quiet. "Risk to rollout timelines?"
"Low immediate," Arin said. "But if unchecked, we hit nine percent probability of coherence cascade within a decade. Dampen sensitivity on high-belief clusters—buy time to refine."
Liora's eyes narrowed. "Dampen, and you dull the revelation. Ten thousand-fold isn't a dial to tweak. It's the threshold where intent becomes destiny."
"Destiny with side effects," Arin pressed. "Tremors aren't destiny. They're warnings."
The debate accelerated—projections clashing, probabilities debated. Liora held firm, framing Arin's caution as necessary but premature, a forge for stronger models. The board nodded along, reassured by her vision.
As the session wound down, she caught his eye. "Stay after. We need to talk."
The others filed out. The dome brightened, the bay sprawling below like a silver promise laced with ruins.
"You're seeing ghosts," Liora said once they were alone. "Every system has noise at the edges. We calibrated for it."
"Not like this," Arin replied. "People aren't just using KFR. They're worshipping it. That changes the input."
She stepped closer, her voice softening. "And if they are? Worship forged civilizations. This forges something better."
"Or breaks it," he said. "What if the next knot isn't charity? What if it's fear, aligned across billions?"
Her gaze held his, unyielding. "Then we evolve. Or we fail trying."
A chime interrupted—urgent alert from the command floor. Both turned to the central display as it flared red.
GLOBAL ANOMALY DETECTED.
SOURCE: UNIDENTIFIED COHERENCE CLUSTER.
MAGNITUDE: CLASS 4.
LOCATION: NEO-OSAKA RIFT ZONE.
The map zoomed: a dark braid of threads, not bright hope but tangled fury—corporate rivals, street enforcers, desperate debtors—all converging in a single, explosive alignment.
"Class 4," Arin whispered. "From below."
Liora's face tightened. "KFR. Full diagnostic. Now."
As the system responded, the bay outside rippled unnaturally, the first harbinger of ten-thousand-fold wrath.