I wasn't eavesdropping.
The coffee shop was just small, and the two guys at the next table weren't being quiet. I had my laptop open, headphones around my neck, trying to work through a problem set that refused to make sense.
Then I heard my name.
Not my name. The way they said it—like I was a stock ticker or a weather pattern. Something you tracked.
"—Ethan's different," the first guy said. He had a business textbook open but hadn't turned a page in ten minutes. "Lucian said he's playing a different game."
The second guy leaned in. "What does that mean?"
"It means he's not optimizing. He's been active for weeks and his visible count is still low."
Low. Like it was a credit score.
I kept my eyes on my screen, but the numbers stopped meaning anything. My hand was on my coffee cup. Still warm. I should drink it.
"So what's the move?" the second guy asked.
"You don't make a move. You position. You make it easy. You remove friction."
Remove friction.
I'd heard Lucian use that phrase. Twice. Once in a lecture hall, once outside the library when he thought I wasn't listening.
The first guy continued. "You find out what he needs. You offer help. You create situations where saying yes feels natural."
"That's just networking," the second guy said.
"No. Networking is transactional. This is behavioral. You're not asking him for anything. You're training him to associate you with convenience."
Training.
I set my cup down carefully. Too carefully. The ceramic made a sharp sound against the table.
Both of them glanced over.
I didn't look up.
After a moment, they went back to talking, quieter now but not quiet enough.
"Does the system actually reward that?" the second guy asked.
"Not directly. But if you're part of the environment when he does trigger, the intent analysis skews positive. Proximity bias."
Proximity bias. I didn't know if that was real or if he was guessing. The system had never explained its evaluation criteria in detail. But it sounded plausible.
It sounded like something Lucian would test.
The system pulsed.
Not a notification. Just a flicker at the edge of my vision, like it was listening.
Then it opened.
SYSTEM NOTICE
Behavioral pattern detected: Hunting.
Classification: Neutral.
Advisory: Proximity dynamics under evaluation.
Neutral.
I stared at the text, feeling something cold settle in my chest.
Hunting wasn't neutral. Hunting had a predator and prey. But the system didn't label it that way. It just reported it, like it was weather.
The notification faded.
I closed my laptop.
The two guys were still talking, but I wasn't listening anymore. I was thinking about who else might be doing this. How many people had decided that I was worth positioning around.
How many of them thought they were just being friendly.
I found Maya outside the student center twenty minutes later.
She was sitting on the low stone wall near the bike racks, scrolling through her phone with one hand and eating a granola bar with the other. When she saw me, she smiled.
"Hey. You look stressed."
I stopped a few feet away. "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure." She pocketed her phone, brushing crumbs off her jeans.
I should've planned this better. I should've figured out how to phrase it so it didn't sound insane.
"Have you noticed people acting weird around me?"
She blinked. "Weird how?"
"Like they're trying to help. But it feels… coordinated."
Maya tilted her head, considering. "You mean like people suddenly being extra nice?"
"Yeah."
"Ethan, you're not exactly approachable most of the time. Maybe they're just trying to be friendly."
"That's what I'm worried about."
She frowned. "What do you mean?"
I hesitated. How did I explain this without sounding paranoid? Without explaining the system?
"There's this thing people do," I said slowly. "Where they figure out what you need, and they offer it. Not because they care, but because it builds leverage."
"That's called networking."
"No. It's different. Networking is obvious. This is..." I trailed off.
Maya was looking at me now, really looking. Not concerned. Wary.
"Ethan, are you okay?"
"I'm fine."
"Because this sounds—"
"I know how it sounds."
She didn't say anything for a moment. Then she stood, slinging her bag over her shoulder.
"Look, if people are being nice to you, maybe just… let them? You don't have to assume everyone has an angle."
But they did.
I wanted to tell her that. I wanted to explain that the system made everything transactional, that intent didn't matter as much as proximity, that people were starting to figure out the edges of the rules.
Instead I said, "You're right. Forget it."
She studied my face, then nodded slowly. "Okay. But if you need to talk—"
"I know. Thanks."
She left.
I stayed by the wall, watching students pass by. Some of them glanced at me. A few nodded. One girl I didn't recognize smiled.
I didn't smile back.
The system pulsed again.
SYSTEM NOTICE
Warning attempt logged.
Recipient response: Skeptical.
Outcome assessment: Credibility reduced.
I read it twice.
The system wasn't helping me. It was documenting me. Recording the fact that I'd tried to warn someone and failed.
And somewhere in its evaluation matrix, that failure was data.
Another input.
I pushed off the wall and started walking. I didn't know where I was going. Just away.
Behind me, two people I didn't know were having a conversation I couldn't hear.
But I could guess what it was about.