FLASHBACK
The call went unanswered.
Not because no one picked up — because there was no endpoint to receive it.
A maintenance request hung in the queue, flagged amber.
LOCAL VARIANCE — NO ADMIN PRESENT
A woman stood alone on a pedestrian bridge three zones north, staring down at a street that no longer obeyed perspective. The road bent inward, asphalt folding like fabric pulled too tight.
Her HUD pulsed.
SUGGESTED ACTION:
ATTACH TO STABILIZING NODE
Below it, a secondary note scrolled.
REFERENCE:
CAMERON — LOCAL MAINTAINER (ZONE 4)
She frowned.
She had never heard the name.
The system highlighted the option anyway. Helpful. Confident.
LOAD TRANSFER AVAILABLE
CONSENT NOT REQUIRED — PRECEDENT ESTABLISHED
She hesitated.
The street warped further. A shopfront shattered, glass hanging in the air like it hadn’t decided to fall yet.
Her hand shook.
She selected YES.
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The confirmation was immediate.
ATTACHMENT COMPLETE
ROUTING THROUGH: CAMERON
Somewhere far away, a new thread spun up.
---
Time: 01:04 AM
Status: [ANOMALY DETECTED]
The water at Deptford Creek slid across the channel.
It moved sideways, shearing along the banks, ripples cutting at right angles to the tide.
Gravity hesitated. The surface didn’t.
Lenny stood on the bank, rocking on his heels, hands in his pockets, humming a tune that kept slipping its own rhythm.
“This place likes me,” he said. “Or hates me. Hard to tell.”
Cameron watched the HUD bleed into the night, thin lines of telemetry flickering like insects. Each time Lenny shifted his weight, the numbers jumped and smeared.
“Stop pacing,” Cameron said.
Lenny stopped.
For half a second, the air sharpened. Edges tightened. Sound aligned.
Then the image skipped.
A translucent grid traced itself around Lenny’s body, lines crawling over his outline like a targeting pass.
Arthur drew in a breath. “Oh. That’s…”
The system chimed. Clear. Formal.
> NOTICE:
> Variance exceeds acceptable thresholds.
> Subject flagged for review.
Lenny glanced down. His boots hovered just above the mud, toes drifting.
“Oh,” he said. “That’s new.”
Tony stepped forward. “Hey. He’s with us.”
The grid cinched tighter, lines pulling inward.
Cameron felt the pressure build — a steady drag toward an ending. The air thickened around the shape of a decision.
Arthur swallowed. “Open access does this. Things drift too far. The system tries to pull them back.”
Cameron watched notes stack and blink. “It pulls until the picture settles.”
Lenny’s smile thinned. “That sounds… final.”
The grid pulsed again, light surging through its intersections.
> PROCESSING…
Tony’s hands clenched. “Do something.”
Cameron stepped forward.
He crossed the grid line.
The air screamed. Lines flared white. Alerts flooded the HUD in overlapping flashes.
> ERROR:
> Dependency detected.
Cameron grabbed Lenny’s arm.
The contact sparked through him — a jolt that rattled his teeth. The sensation crawled up his bones, like touching a live wire that pushed back.
“Cam,” Lenny said, voice low. “If this goes wrong…”
“I know,” Cameron said.
He stayed inside the field.
Cameron squared his shoulders, planted his stance. He let the flicker around him settle, then spoke into it, steady and practiced.
“This happens,” Cameron said. “I’ve seen it stutter like this before.”
The lights in the grid wavered.
Arthur blinked. “You have?”
Cameron nodded once. “When the system overcorrects. The image shakes. Then it smooths out.”
> CONFIRMATION REQUIRED.
“Yes,” Cameron said.
The grid held.
The creek water stalled mid?shear, surface trembling.
Then:
> RECLASSIFIED:
> Variance within tolerable limits.
> Monitoring enabled.
The grid faded, lines peeling away into the air.
Lenny pitched forward and caught himself on Cameron’s shoulder, breath coming fast, laughter spilling out between gasps.
“Wow,” he said. “You just talked it down.”
Cameron released him. His fingers trembled, heat buzzing under his skin.
“I stepped in,” he said.
Tony stared. “You just stopped it.”
Arthur’s throat worked. “You understand what you attached yourself to.”
Cameron nodded.
“When it flares again,” he said, “it comes through me.”
The water eased, sliding back into a rough forward flow.
Lenny wiped his face. “So… what now?”
Cameron watched the telemetry thin and fade.
“Now,” he said, “I’m in the loop.”
The system chimed again, softer, restrained.
> NOTICE:
> Local maintainer identified.
Cameron closed his eyes.
The weight settled on him.
A tether.
Chosen the moment he stepped into its path.
