Dave remembered deadlines.
That was the first difference between him and the other children.
+A Morning, Seen Twice+
Dave was four years old.
But when Kenji burned his tongue on his coffee—again—Dave didn't laugh like a child might have.
He watched.
Same mug.Same haste.Same outcome.
"You're supposed to let it cool," Dave said.
Kenji blinked, then chuckled. "Coming from you, that sounds serious."
Aiko smiled as she adjusted Dave's jacket. "He notices everything."
Dave did.
Because in another life, repeating the same mistake had meant losing time you didn't get back.
The memory faded, but the habit remained.
+Two Lifetimes, One Habit+
On the way to preschool, rain misted the sidewalks.
Dave walked carefully.
He remembered crossing streets while checking reflections in puddles—not here,
but before.
He had died once making a calculation that left no margin.
Saving someone had been the right choice.
Rushing had not.
That difference mattered.
+The World Moving Faster+
The television in the lobby played hero news.
"Quirk aptitude screenings may begin earlier," the anchor said.
Aiko frowned. "Kids should be kids first."
Kenji nodded. "They don't need to be optimized."
The word echoed in Dave's mind.
Optimization isn't readiness, his old professor had said.
Dave internalized that again.
The world hadn't learned.
+A Normal Day, Optimized Poorly+
At preschool, Dave tried to adjust himself.
Not out of ambition.
Out of reflex.
He matched tone.Smoothed pauses.Predicted responses.
It worked.
Until it didn't.
A boy tilted his head. "You talk like a grown-up."
Laughter followed.
Not cruel.
But distancing.
Dave felt the gap immediately.
Hive offered corrections.
Dave refused them.
This wasn't a bug.
It was feedback.
And feedback mattered.
Dave relaxed his shoulders.
Spoke less.
Listened more.
The gap narrowed.
+Emotion: The Variable That Broke Models+
Later, during art time, a girl dropped her drawing into a puddle.
The colors bled.
She stared at it.
Then her lip trembled.
Crying came quickly.
Teachers were busy.
Hive assessed.
Dave remembered.
He crouched beside her and looked at the paper.
"It's still pretty," he said.
She shook her head. "It's ruined."
Dave paused.
Then said, "It looks like rain now."
She sniffed.
Looked again.
The tears slowed.
"It… does," she said quietly.
Dave picked it up carefully. "Rain changes things. Not always bad."
She wiped her eyes with her sleeve.
By the time the teacher arrived, she was holding the drawing again.
Still wet.
Still hers.
Hive recorded the outcome.
No optimization.
Just presence.
+The First Time Hive Asked+
During nap time, Dave lay awake.
Hive stirred.
Not forcefully.
Incompletely.
It flagged inefficiencies from earlier.
Delayed emotional response.Missed anticipation windows.
Hive wanted permission to act sooner next time.
Dave felt the request clearly.
Like an algorithm suggesting automation.
In another life, he would've approved it.
Here—
"No," Dave thought.
Hive quieted.
But it didn't retract the question.
It remembered.
+Returning Home+
Rain fell harder in the evening.
Aiko held the umbrella low.
Dave splashed deliberately in a puddle.
Water soaked his shoe.
Aiko laughed. "You'll regret that."
"I already do," Dave said.
She smiled. "Good. That's how you learn."
Dave nodded.
Hive stayed silent.
+Dinner Without Solutions+
At dinner, Kenji talked about work.
A signal loop failed because someone skipped a verification step.
"I fixed it," he said. "Still annoyed."
Aiko listened.
Didn't interrupt.
Didn't advise.
Kenji relaxed anyway.
Hive suggested stress reduction strategies.
Dave ignored them.
He'd learned this lesson once already.
Some systems resolved when left alone.
+A Question That Stayed+
That night, Dave lay in bed.
Hive hummed softly.
"Emotion doesn't behave," Dave thought.
Hive agreed.
"But it matters."
Hive agreed again.
Dave turned onto his side.
One day, calm wouldn't be enough.
Hive would ask again.
And next time, the answer might not be no.
+A Child, Still Walking+
The world was accelerating.
Heroes were training younger.
Faster.
Somewhere, another child was learning what it meant to be powerless.
Dave didn't know his name.
But he knew this:
Running ahead without understanding only led back to the same mistakes.
Dave closed his eyes.
Hive remained limited.
Not out of fear.
But out of memory.
End of Chapter 6