The city looked the same.
That was the most dangerous part.
Aren stood near the café window long after Marcus finished his coffee, watching people move through the street with the unthinking confidence of those who believed tomorrow was guaranteed.
Cars slowed at intersections. A cyclist cursed under his breath when a pedestrian stepped into the road without looking. Somewhere down the block, a shopkeeper lifted a metal shutter with a loud clatter.
Ordinary.
Painfully ordinary.
If Aren hadn't lived through the end of all this once already, he might have believed it himself.
He finished his coffee without tasting it.
Marcus checked his phone and stood. "Alright. We should get going unless you want to explain to Professor Lane why we're late again."
Aren nodded and followed him outside.
The sunlight felt warm on his skin. Too warm. In the future, the sky often carried a dull haze—ash, smoke, particulate matter from fires that never fully went out. Blue skies became rare enough that people commented on them when they appeared.
Today, the sky was flawless.
That didn't comfort him.
As they walked, Aren let his gaze drift—not aimlessly, but deliberately. He took in alleyways, rooftops, intersections. Old habits resurfaced easily. Routes. Chokepoints. Lines of sight.
He caught himself doing it and forced his attention forward.
Not yet.
Moving too far ahead too fast would only create chaos he couldn't predict.
The Maximizer System remained quiet, hovering invisibly just beyond his awareness. It hadn't issued another alert since the news notification.
That silence was deliberate.
It was watching.
They reached the campus building without incident. Students gathered near the entrance, some arguing about assignments, others laughing loudly, unbothered by the faint hum of anxiety that had begun creeping into the world's news cycle.
Aren paused at the base of the steps.
Marcus frowned. "You coming?"
"In a second," Aren said.
Marcus shrugged and headed inside.
Aren stayed where he was, eyes lifting toward the sky.
Nothing looked wrong.
But memory told him something had already shifted.
The first breach wouldn't open here. Not visibly. Not dramatically.
It would begin with interference.
Electronics behaving strangely.
Sensors reporting impossible readings.
Animals reacting before people did.
And somewhere—someone would ignore the warning.
His phone vibrated again.
Another notification.
OFFICIAL STATEMENT: Atmospheric disturbance deemed non-threatening. No cause for concern at this time.
Aren closed his eyes.
Same phrasing.
Same lie.
Ten years ago, he had believed it.
He opened his eyes and finally stepped inside.
The presentation passed in a blur.
Aren spoke when prompted, answered questions automatically, his mind elsewhere. He noted small things instead—how the lights flickered briefly near the end of the session, how one of the projectors froze for half a second before correcting itself.
No one else seemed to notice.
That was normal too.
People dismissed early signs because they didn't fit into clean explanations.
When the session ended, Marcus stretched and yawned. "Man, I need food. You in?"
Aren hesitated.
In the original timeline, he'd gone with Marcus. They'd eaten at a cheap place near campus. Nothing remarkable had happened.
Today felt different.
"Go ahead," Aren said. "I've got something to check."
Marcus blinked. "Since when do you skip free food?"
"Since today."
Marcus laughed. "You're weird, man."
Aren watched him leave, then turned and walked the opposite direction.
As soon as he was alone, the Maximizer System flickered into view.
[Decision Divergence Detected][Timeline deviation: Minor]
"Minor," Aren muttered. "For now."
He headed toward the science wing.
If there was one place anomalies would be noticed first, it was there—labs, sensors, people who lived on data and patterns.
He didn't know exactly what he was looking for.
But he knew what felt wrong.
The hallway was quieter than the rest of the building. Fluorescent lights hummed overhead. A few doors stood open, voices drifting out in muted conversation.
As he passed one lab, he slowed.
Inside, two researchers stood over a workstation, brows furrowed.
"…That can't be right," one of them said.
"Run it again," the other replied. "The calibration was fine this morning."
Aren stopped just outside the doorway.
On the screen, graphs spiked sharply upward, then flatlined.
Magnetic interference.
Small. Localized.
The same pattern he'd seen in archived reports years later—buried under thousands of files no one had time to properly analyze during the Collapse.
He took a step closer.
The Maximizer System appeared instantly.
[Risk Projection: Elevated][Engagement probability: 62% chance of unwanted attention]
Aren clenched his jaw.
If he spoke up now, he'd become part of the record.
That could be good.
Or catastrophic.
Ten years ago, no one had pushed hard enough at this stage. Reports were filed. Questions were postponed. Funding requests delayed.
By the time answers came, it was too late.
He stepped into the lab.
Both researchers looked up.
"Sorry," Aren said calmly. "I don't mean to interrupt. I couldn't help overhearing."
The older one frowned. "This area's restricted."
"I know," Aren said. "I'm a student here. Environmental systems track, second year."
That was true.
At least in this timeline.
The other researcher glanced at the screen again. "We're just dealing with a sensor glitch."
Aren nodded. "Maybe. But those spikes—are they isolated?"
The older researcher hesitated. "Why?"
"Because if they're not," Aren said carefully, "you're not looking at interference. You're looking at a structural anomaly."
Silence followed.
The younger researcher turned back to the workstation, typing rapidly. A second window opened. Then a third.
"…They're spreading," he said slowly.
Aren's pulse quickened.
The Maximizer System pulsed.
[Critical Choice Detected][Outcome branches diverging rapidly]
The older researcher straightened. "What's your name?"
Aren met his gaze.
This was it.
A line crossed.
"Aren Vale," he said.
The name settled into the room.
The researcher nodded once. "Alright, Aren Vale. Let's assume you're right. What do you suggest?"
Ten years ago, Aren would've deflected.
Deferred.
Left it to authority.
Today, he didn't.
"You report it immediately," Aren said. "And you don't water it down. You push it up the chain now."
"And if you're wrong?" the researcher asked.
Aren didn't hesitate. "Then you waste a few hours."
"And if you're right?"
Aren's voice lowered.
"Then you've just bought the world a little time."
The room went quiet.
Finally, the researcher nodded. "Get me your department head. We're escalating."
Aren exhaled slowly.
The Maximizer System flashed.
[Major Divergence Recorded][Future certainty reduced][Survival probability: +0.004%]
The number was small.
Almost insulting.
But it wasn't zero.
That mattered.
Aren stepped back as calls were made and doors closed. He left the lab before anyone could ask him more questions.
His hands trembled slightly as he reached the stairwell.
So it starts, he thought.
Not with explosions.
With conversations.
Outside, the sky remained blue.
But somewhere far above it, something had shifted.
Aren looked up once more.
"This time," he murmured, "you don't get ignored."
The Maximizer System hovered silently beside him.
Watching.
Calculating.