No one reached for a weapon.
That was the first thing Lucas noticed.
The woman leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, eyes sharp but not afraid. The older man remained standing, hands resting calmly on the edge of the table, as if Lucas had walked in late to a meeting rather than into something he clearly wasn't meant to see.
The room smelled faintly of dust and burnt coffee.
"Close the door," the woman said.
Lucas didn't move.
"If this is where I die," he replied, "I'd rather not do you any favors."
A corner of her mouth twitched. Not a smile. Not quite.
"Relax," she said. "If we wanted you dead, you wouldn't be standing there."
The older man nodded once. "Statistically speaking."
Lucas exhaled through his nose and pushed the door shut behind him. The click echoed louder than it should have.
He stayed near the wall.
"My name is Lucas Hale," he said. "And unless I'm hallucinating, you're using the same thing I am."
The woman glanced at the phone on the table.
Black screen. White text.
She looked back at Lucas. "You saw your death."
It wasn't a question.
Lucas felt a chill slide down his spine. "So did you."
The woman shrugged. "Something like that."
The older man finally spoke. His voice was calm, worn smooth by years of explaining things people didn't want to hear.
"You're early," he said. "That's… unfortunate."
"Funny," Lucas replied. "That seems to be a pattern."
The woman studied him for a long moment, eyes flicking from his face to his hands, his posture, the way he stood like someone already planning his exits.
"You didn't panic," she said. "Most people do."
Lucas laughed softly. "Oh, I panicked. I just didn't find it useful."
That earned him a real smile. Brief. Sharp.
"I'm Iris," she said. "This is Daniel."
Daniel inclined his head.
"Congratulations," Iris continued. "You're officially a variable."
Lucas frowned. "You say that like it's a promotion."
"It's not," Daniel said. "It's a liability."
Lucas stepped closer to the table. The phone between them felt like a live wire.
"How many others?" Lucas asked.
Iris's gaze flicked to Daniel. A silent exchange passed between them.
"Seven," Daniel said. "Including you."
Lucas's jaw tightened. "You told me six."
Daniel didn't blink. "That information was outdated."
Lucas pulled his own phone from his pocket.
The screen lit up immediately.
PROXIMITY SYNCHRONIZEDNETWORK ACCESS: PARTIAL
"So you're lying," Lucas said. "Or the thing feeding me information is."
Iris tilted her head. "Why assume it's only one of those?"
Lucas didn't answer.
"Sit," she said again.
This time, he did.
The chair felt solid. Real. That made this worse, not better.
Daniel folded his hands. "You saw a fixed point. A confirmed termination."
Lucas nodded once. "Street. Rain. Knife."
Iris's expression hardened. "Close-range. Personal."
"That's what scares me," Lucas said. "I don't have enemies."
Daniel's lips pressed into a thin line. "Not yet."
Silence stretched.
"You said I wasn't supposed to find you yet," Lucas said. "Why?"
Iris leaned forward. "Because the earlier you interfere, the faster instability rises."
Lucas's phone buzzed in agreement.
INSTABILITY: 1.9%
Lucas swallowed. "And when it hits one hundred?"
Daniel answered quietly. "We don't know."
"That's comforting."
"No," Iris said. "It's terrifying. Which is why we manage it."
"Manage," Lucas repeated. "By watching people die?"
Iris's eyes flashed. "By deciding which deaths matter."
The words landed hard.
Daniel spoke before Lucas could. "We observe futures. We identify convergence points. Events that ripple outward."
"Like my death," Lucas said.
"Yes," Daniel replied. "And the version where you survive."
Lucas's breath caught. "You've seen that one too."
Iris nodded. "Once."
"And?" Lucas asked.
Her jaw tightened. "It gets worse before it gets better."
Lucas leaned back, mind racing. "So what am I to you? A test subject?"
"A risk," Daniel said honestly. "And an opportunity."
Iris tapped the phone on the table. "You're different."
Lucas scoffed. "You just met me."
"No," she replied. "We've been watching you since your first divergence."
Lucas's skin prickled. "The coffee shop."
She smiled thinly. "You chose black. No lid."
His stomach dropped.
Daniel continued, "Most variables make emotional choices. Desperate ones. You make controlled deviations."
Lucas stared at them. "So what happens now?"
Iris stood. "Now you decide if you want to be ignorant and die on schedule."
"And the alternative?" Lucas asked.
Daniel met his eyes. "You learn how the system actually works."
The lights flickered overhead.
Lucas's phone vibrated violently.
WARNINGEXTERNAL OBSERVATION DETECTED
Iris cursed under her breath. "They felt this."
"They?" Lucas asked.
Daniel's voice dropped. "The ones who don't try to prevent outcomes."
Footsteps echoed in the hallway outside. Slow. Unhurried.
Someone knocked.
Once.
Polite.
Iris grabbed her phone. "Lucas," she said quickly, "if you stay, you're choosing a side."
The knock came again.
Harder.
Lucas stood.
341 days.
A knife in the rain.
A hospital bed.
A woman crying in relief.
He looked at Iris. At Daniel. At the door.
Then he reached down, picked up the phone from the table, and slipped it into his pocket.
"Guess I'm interfering," he said.
The door handle began to turn.