The banner had been on every screen all week—on hallway monitors, on the library check-out tablets, on the cafeteria self-serve kiosks that never worked unless you smiled at them like they were alive.
STUDENT PERKS IS LIVE.SECURE YOUR FUTURE.
Halcyon Magnet Academy didn't do anything without branding it like a miracle.
Mara saw it first on the stairwell TV beside the trophy case, glitching between a smiling student ambassador and a list of "partner opportunities" that looked suspiciously like a college admissions spreadsheet wearing lipstick.
Jace leaned in close to the screen and read in his best announcer voice. "Perks include: grade acceleration, scholarship alignment, internship matching, reputation stabilization—"
"Reputation stabilization?" Mara echoed. "That's not a perk. That's a threat."
Jace grinned like he lived for threats. Like they were the only honest thing in the building. "Everything here is a threat, Mara. The difference is this one comes with a button."
They were wedged into the after-hours crush of students spilling out of the auditorium. The "Midnight Drop" assembly had been scheduled like a concert—lights low, fog machine for no reason, Student Council chanting COUNTDOWN! at the front like they were summoning something.
Nina walked a step ahead of them, phone already open, thumb hovering. She never hovered. Nina clicked life like it was a checklist: done, done, done.
Theo drifted by backward, filming over his shoulder. His livestream chat was a waterfall of emojis.
@theorize_me: HALCYON STARTED A STARTUP CULT 🤡@boredbrokeandbrilliant: if it gives me an A in calc i'll sell my soul idc@tin_foil_tim: READ THE TERMS. IT'S ALWAYS THE TERMS.
Theo tilted his phone toward Mara for a second. "People are begging to be exploited," he said, half laughing, half nauseated. "It's beautiful."
"Don't call it beautiful," Mara muttered.
She didn't look like the kind of person who read terms and conditions. People assumed that about you based on vibes, like lactose intolerance. Mara had a scholarship badge on her lanyard and a habit of picking at her cuticles until they bled. She wore headphones with no music, just to avoid being pulled into conversations she couldn't afford.
But she did read them. Always.
Not because she was responsible. Because her brain didn't believe in free things.
When her anxiety got loud, she did two things: made lists, and read fine print. If she could name the trap, it felt smaller.
Tonight, the trap had a countdown.
The Student Council president—smiling, perfect, unblinking—had led the auditorium through a practice tap.
"Halcyon," she said, microphone warm in her hand, "this is about choice. We value your choice. Student Perks is here to make sure your hard work… counts."
Behind her, the screen displayed a giant button.
ACCEPT ALL.
The room laughed, because everyone laughed when they were being shepherded.
Mara hadn't laughed.
She'd felt, sharply, like she was being measured.
On the walk home from the auditorium, her phone buzzed again.
11:59 PM.
The push notification landed like a fingertip on her spine.
Your future is waiting.
The text was clean. Friendly. The kind of voice companies used when they wanted you to feel like your consent was a gift you were giving them, not a lock you were clicking onto your own wrists.
Jace shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and let the cold bite him. "I love when apps talk like they're flirting."
"They're not flirting," Mara said. "They're grooming."
Nina finally stopped, just before the front gates where the ironwork spelled HALCYON like a promise and a warning. She turned around, the streetlights turning her face into angles.
"Are you doing this?" she asked.
Jace held up his phone like a toast. "Already downloaded. Already accepted. Already blessed by the algorithm."
Theo shrugged. "I'm going to hit review on stream. If it's boring, I'm pressing accept. If it's cursed, I'm pressing accept while screaming."
Nina's gaze slid to Mara. "Mara."
It wasn't just her name. It was the way Nina said it—like it was a deadline.
Mara swallowed. "I'm… reviewing."
Jace's grin widened. "Of course you are."
"Someone has to," Mara snapped, louder than she meant. Heads turned. The gate camera blinked red, tracking their faces like a bored predator.
Nina's mouth twitched. Not quite a smile. "Fine. Review. But if this locks out scholarship eligibility or something—"
"It won't," Jace cut in. "They can't do that."
Mara looked at him. "How do you know?"
He blinked, genuinely confused. "Because that would be evil."
Theo's chat exploded with LMAO and SHE'S RIGHT as he panned the camera between them.
Mara stepped away from the gate, closer to the shadow of the elm trees that lined the sidewalk like judges. She opened Student Perks.
The app loaded too fast—no spinning circle, no hesitation. Like it had been waiting on her specifically.
A clean interface appeared: school crest in the corner, her name at the top.
WELCOME, MARA R.WE VALUE YOUR CHOICE.
Below it: two buttons.
ACCEPT ALL (bold, bright, pulsing faintly)REVIEW (thin, quiet, like a dare)
Mara tapped REVIEW.
A page of text slid up. Crisp font. Too readable for something meant to be ignored.
At the top, a banner:
PERSONALIZED TERMS (HALCYON EDITION)Effective Immediately — 12:00 AM
She scrolled.
Most of it was standard corporate soup—usage data, third-party partners, behavioral analytics. Then something made her thumb freeze.
A clause title, in the same friendly font, but with a strange gravity:
2.3 CONDITIONAL OWNERSHIP OF FUTURE OUTCOMES
She leaned closer.
The words rearranged themselves in her head like they were learning her reading speed.
By continuing, you grant Student Perks conditional ownership of one (1) future regret.Ownership activates upon Eligibility Trigger.You may review your Cooling-Off Window in Settings.
Mara's stomach went cold in a way that didn't feel metaphorical.
Future regret.
Not data. Not access. Not a subscription.
A regret.
She scrolled up and down, like if she blinked hard enough it would turn back into normal legal nonsense.
It didn't.
Behind her, Jace called out, "Find anything spicy?"
Mara didn't answer.
Theo's phone light flashed over her shoulder. "Chat says screenshot it," he said, breathlessly delighted. "Chat says future regret sounds like a Black Mirror thing."
"Don't say that," Mara murmured.
Nina stepped closer, impatient. "Mara, what is it?"
Mara hesitated.
This was the part where she usually made a joke to soften the panic. But her brain wouldn't cough one up. The empty space where a joke should have been made her even more afraid.
She turned the screen toward them.
Nina read the clause, lips moving silently. When she finished, she looked up too quickly, as if eye contact could erase text.
"That's… not real," Nina said.
Theo leaned in, eyes wide. "It's real enough to be written."
Jace's grin faltered for the first time all night. "Okay. Weird. But it's probably just… language."
Mara's fingers tightened around her phone. "Language is how they make it legal."
The clause had her name in it. Not just the welcome line—the text itself seemed… angled toward her. Like it knew she would read it.
She scrolled again. The terms shifted to a section labeled ELIGIBILITY TRIGGERS.
A bullet list loaded.
It looked incomplete, like it was still thinking.
Academic Stress Event
Social Instability Spike
Financial Aid Threshold
…pending review…
Her thumb hovered over the words pending review and a new line appeared beneath it, as if the app sensed her curiosity and rewarded it.
Anomaly: User reads beyond Clause 2.2
Mara stared.
"That's you," Theo whispered, delighted and terrified at the same time.
"That's a glitch," Jace said quickly, too quickly. "That's… personalization."
Mara's heart thudded hard enough to make her ears ring. "Personalization doesn't usually point at you."
Nina backed away half a step, like the phone was radioactive. "Close it," she said.
Mara tried.
She swiped down to exit the terms.
The page resisted. Not frozen—resistant. Like a hand on a door.
A soft vibration pulsed through her phone.
A new line appeared under the future regret clause.
Regret Selection: pendingYou will be notified when your regret becomes redeemable.
Mara's breath caught.
Redeemable.
Like a coupon. Like a debt. Like a thing that could be owned and collected.
Theo's livestream chat turned from jokes to static dread in real time:
@tin_foil_tim: BRO THAT'S A CONTRACT@boredbrokeandbrilliant: it says REDEEMABLE????@someone_help: STOP READING IT OUT LOUD@theorize_me: DID ANYONE ELSE GET THIS OR JUST HER???
Mara realized, abruptly, that she had whispered the words under her breath as she read them.
Not out loud. Not really.
But the app didn't care about really. The app cared about confirmation.
Her phone vibrated again, sharper.
A tiny banner appeared at the bottom of the screen.
CONSENT ACKNOWLEDGED.THANK YOU FOR CHOOSING YOUR FUTURE.
And beneath that, in smaller text that felt like teeth:
By continuing, you grant conditional ownership of one (1) future regret.
The ACCEPT ALL button brightened—pulsing like a heartbeat.
Like it was waiting for her thumb.
To be Continued
© Kishtika., 2025
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