Minh Truong stopped waiting for the system to correct itself.
If the delay existed, then it could be measured.
He chose a controlled environment—a subway platform during off-peak hours. People stood scattered along the platform edge, their movements predictable, their routines repetitive. Perfect for comparison.
He activated the interface fully.
Instantly, data flooded his vision.
Lifespans appeared—but not in unison.
Some numbers loaded immediately. Others stuttered. A few lagged just long enough for Minh Truong to count the gap in his head.
0.2 seconds.
0.4 seconds.
0.7.
His jaw tightened.
This was no coincidence.
He shifted his focus deliberately from one person to another, timing the appearance of the countdown. The pattern repeated. The delay varied, but it was consistent within individuals.
As if each person had their own synchronization speed.
Minh Truong raised his hand slightly, pretending to check his phone while watching a man in his thirties pacing near the wall.
No data.
One heartbeat passed.
Then two.
The number snapped into place, but something was wrong.
The digits were sharp, yet the value itself changed—dropping, then correcting upward by a small margin, as if the system had second-guessed its own calculation.
Minh Truong froze.
The system had never revised a lifespan upward before.
Not once.
He dismissed the interface immediately.
A quiet alarm rang in his mind, not from the system, but from instinct.
This was no longer passive observation.
The system was recalculating in response to uncertainty.
Minh Truong stepped onto the arriving train and blended into the crowd, his thoughts racing faster than the data he had just witnessed.
If lifespans could fluctuate—even momentarily—then the future was not as fixed as the numbers had implied.
And if the system could hesitate…
Then it could be wrong.
As the subway doors closed, Minh Truong felt it again—a subtle pressure, like being observed from a distance too vast to pinpoint.
Not by a person.
By a process.
Somewhere, logs were being written.
And for the first time, Minh Truong was no longer just reading them.
He was generating them.