It started small.
Too small to notice.
A delay.
A blocked path.
A missing file.
"…this is not coincidence," Jared said.
"…you say that about everything now."
"…because everything is connected."
"…that's not comforting."
They reached the cafeteria.
Full.
Noisy.
Normal.
But—
Jared stopped.
"…something's wrong."
"…again?"
"…yes."
"…can we have ONE normal moment?"
"…no."
"…figures."
They stepped inside.
Immediately—
Two students stood up.
Blocked their usual table.
"…that's new," Iris said.
"…intentional displacement," Jared replied.
"…JUST SAY THEY TOOK OUR SEATS."
"…same conclusion."
They moved to another table.
Occupied.
Another—
Occupied.
"…okay now this is weird," Iris muttered.
"…controlled environment," Jared said.
"…I DON'T LIKE CONTROLLED ENVIRONMENTS."
Finally—
They sat at a far corner.
Less crowded.
But not safe.
Jared's phone buzzed.
Message.
He opened it.
Silence.
"…what now," Iris asked.
"…pressure confirmed."
"…STOP SAYING THAT AND SHOW ME."
He turned the screen.
"Adapt."
Silence.
Iris blinked.
"…they're giving instructions now?"
"…yes."
"…I didn't sign up for this."
"…neither did I."
"…you kind of did."
"…partially accurate."
Jared looked around.
Every movement—
Slightly off.
Every interaction—
Subtly influenced.
They're shaping the environment.
"…they're increasing pressure gradually," he said.
"…WHY GRADUALLY."
"…to measure response."
"…I FEEL LIKE A LAB RAT."
"…so do I."
"…YOU SOUND OKAY WITH IT."
"…I'm not."
Jared clenched his hand slightly.
If pressure increases…
Then adaptation must accelerate.
"…we respond," he said.
"…how?"
A pause.
His eyes sharpened.
"…we push back."
Silence.
Iris stared at him.
"…I knew you were going to say that."
"…predictable outcome."
"…I REGRET EVERYTHING."