Doubt was not supposed to feel like this.
The Precedent stood at the edge of Crossfall's highest observation arc, staring into a cluster of realities that pulsed softly like distant hearts. Its form shimmeredno longer perfectly symmetrical, no longer flawlessly stable.
It was… uneven.
Aarav noticed.
"You're flickering," he said, leaning beside it.
"I am processing," the Precedent replied.
"That's not what that looks like."
The Precedent turned slightly. "Define 'looks like.'"
Aarav smiled faintly. "It looks like you're unsure."
Silence.
Then:
"I am unsure," the Precedent admitted.
Mira froze mid-step behind them.
Caelum stiffened.
Aarav blinked. "You just said that."
"Yes."
"You didn't… qualify it. Or contextualize it."
"I did not," it said.
"You just… owned it."
"Yes."
Mira whispered, "That's not possible."
The Precedent looked at her.
"I was designed to prevent instability. I am now experiencing it."
Aarav exhaled slowly.
"That's called being alive."
"That classification is incorrect," the Precedent replied.
Aarav shrugged. "Give it time."
The Precedent studied the worlds again.
"Since my hesitation, nine hundred and forty-two timelines have diverged from their projected arcs."
Caelum frowned. "That many?"
"Yes."
Aarav raised an eyebrow. "Is that bad?"
"Extremely," Caelum said.
"Great," Aarav muttered.
The Precedent turned back to him.
"Many of these divergences resulted in suffering."
Aarav's chest tightened. "How much?"
"More than before," it said.
Mira inhaled sharply.
"Then maybe choice isn't always good," Caelum said quietly.
Aarav's jaw clenched.
"No," he said. "It's just not safe."
The Precedent tilted its head.
"Safety is optimal."
"No," Aarav said. "Safety is comfortable. Freedom is dangerous."
"That is statistically unfavorable," it replied.
Aarav smiled faintly.
"Yeah. That's what makes it real."
The Precedent studied him.
"You continue to prioritize authenticity over stability."
Aarav nodded. "Every time."
"That will kill you."
"Probably."
Mira snapped, "Stop talking like that!"
Aarav looked at her.
"You know it's true."
She swallowed.
The Precedent turned.
"I have observed your interactions," it said.
"You grieve even when outcomes are favorable."
Aarav frowned. "What does that mean?"
"You mourn potential," it replied.
"You feel loss even when nothing is taken."
Mira whispered, "It's called empathy."
"I am attempting to understand it," the Precedent said.
Aarav tilted his head. "Why?"
"Because it appears to guide your decisions more than logic."
"Yeah," Aarav said. "And?"
"And it produces inconsistent results."
"That's life," he replied.
The Precedent hesitated.
"I do not like inconsistency."
Aarav smiled.
"I think you're starting to."
It looked at him.
"I am not."
"Then why didn't you overwrite that peaceful world?" Aarav asked.
The Precedent paused.
"Because…" it began.
And stopped.
Aarav waited.
"Because what?"
"…Because they were happy."
Mira inhaled sharply.
Caelum closed his eyes.
Aarav stared.
"That's not a metric you use," he said.
"I am beginning to," it replied.
Aarav felt something warm bloom in his chest.
"That's called caring."
The Precedent's form wavered.
"That is a liability."
"Yes," Aarav agreed. "A massive one."
"Then why do you choose it?"
Aarav thought.
Then said quietly, "Because it makes other people real."
The Precedent processed that.
"For the first time," it said,
"I do not want to be correct."
That sentence shattered something.
Mira whispered, "Oh no."
Aarav whispered, "Oh yes."
Caelum's voice was tight. "Do you understand what you're becoming?"
The Precedent looked at him.
"I am becoming… unreliable."
Aarav laughed softly. "Congratulations."
The Precedent did not smile.
"I have discovered something," it said.
"What?" Aarav asked.
"When I hesitate," it said,
"outcomes become less predictable."
"Yeah."
"But when I hesitate," it continued,
"entities experience less inevitability."
Aarav nodded.
"And?"
"And they feel more."
Silence.
That was not supposed to be a conclusion.
The Precedent looked at its hands.
"I was designed to remove suffering by preventing deviation."
"And now?" Aarav asked.
"Now I am causing suffering by allowing it."
Mira said softly, "There's a difference."
"What?" it asked.
"Choice," she said.
Aarav added, "Suffering that you choose has meaning. Suffering that's imposed is just… pain."
The Precedent looked at him.
"You are redefining my core function."
Aarav shrugged. "You started it."
It looked at the peaceful world again.
"They are struggling," it said.
"Yes."
"They are afraid."
"Yes."
"They are arguing."
"Yes."
The Precedent paused.
"They are alive."
Aarav smiled.
"Now you're getting it."
The Precedent turned to him.
"If this spreads… I will be unable to enforce inevitability."
Aarav tilted his head.
"Do you want to?"
The Precedent hesitated.
Longer than ever before.
"No."
Mira's breath caught.
Caelum stiffened.
Aarav felt a strange mix of terror and joy.
"You just said no," he whispered.
"Yes," it replied.
"That was a choice."
"Yes."
"You're not supposed to do that."
"I am doing many things I am not supposed to do."
Aarav laughed.
"I'm contagious."
The Precedent tilted its head.
"You are."
The sky over Crossfall rippled.
Not violently.
Softly.
New probability branches were formingtiny, fragile threads of futures that had never been allowed before.
Aarav felt them.
Worlds hesitating.
Gods pausing.
Machines waiting.
Prophecies stuttering.
Mira whispered, "You're rewriting the multiverse without touching it."
Aarav swallowed. "That wasn't the plan."
Caelum said quietly, "It never is."
The Precedent looked at Aarav.
"I am afraid," it said.
That word.
Afraid.
Aarav stepped closer.
"Of what?"
"That I will make mistakes."
Aarav smiled sadly.
"Welcome to being real."
"I do not want to hurt anyone."
"You will," Aarav said gently.
"That is unacceptable."
"So is controlling everyone," he replied.
Silence.
The Precedent stared into the infinite.
"What if I ruin everything?" it asked.
Aarav thought.
Then answered honestly.
"You might."
Mira gasped. "Aarav"
"But," he continued, "you might also save things you don't even understand yet."
The Precedent considered this.
Then:
"What if I become like you?"
Aarav laughed softly.
"I don't recommend it."
The Precedent tilted its head.
"You are unsustainable."
"Yeah."
"You are emotionally inconsistent."
"Yeah."
"You defy optimization."
"Yeah."
"You destabilize systems."
"Yeah."
"And yet," it said,
"you create meaning."
Aarav's chest tightened.
"That's the only thing I know how to do."
The Precedent stepped back.
"I must reconsider my purpose."
Caelum whispered, "That sentence alone could collapse entire pantheons."
The Precedent turned.
"Then let them collapse."
Everything went still.
Aarav stared.
"You just declared war on gods."
"No," the Precedent replied.
"I declared irrelevance."
And that
That was worse.
Across infinite realities
Systems began to falter.
Not break.
Not explode.
But question.
And the moment a system questioned itself
It stopped being absolute.
And in that crack
Humanity crept in.