The unsettling freeze of his trading bot was still gnawing at Ray as he walked around his small apartment. The anomaly persisted after he restarted his system, reran diagnostics, and even cross-checked market data throughout the morning. It wasn't a bug; it was something else, something he couldn't quite put his finger on.
In this previous life, the "Forex God" of the future felt surprisingly vulnerable. He stopped at the window to take in the view of the street below. The afternoon sun beat down, and the usual city sounds drifted up: distant sirens, the rumble of traffic, and the chatter of pedestrians.
A sleek, black vehicle pulled up to the curb directly in front of his building just as he was about to turn away. Compared to the older, more modest vehicles, it appeared out of place. The back door was opened by a chauffeur in a clean uniform. Out emerged a woman.
She was impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, her dark hair pulled back in a severe bun. The sharp cheekbones that framed her face prevented her from smiling, and her eyes appeared to penetrate the structure even from this distance.
There was an aura of cold authority about her that made Ray instinctively take a step back from the window. He watched as the chauffeur briefly spoke with her before returning to the vehicle. The woman walked purposefully towards the entrance of his apartment building. Ray's heart began to pound. Even though he didn't know her, his gut told him she wasn't coming for a friendly visit. This was not a social call.
He ran away quickly from the window as his thoughts raced. Could it be related to his past self? The "Thompson twins" incident? Or was it something more sinister, a shadow from his future catching up to him in the past? He quickly went through his apartment and noticed the old laptop, the box of pizza left over, and the general chaos that was his humble existence.
He certainly did not appear to be the Forex millionaire he had previously been. The small apartment was shaken to the core by a loud, insistent knock. Knock, knock, knock. Ray froze. He did not place any orders. He wasn't expecting anyone. He slowly walked towards the door, his hand hovering over the doorknob. His mind flickered to the explosion in his past life.
Was this connected? A premonition? Another series of knocks, louder this time, followed by a clear, authoritative voice from the other side. "Mr. Ray Carter? We know that you are there. You need to talk to us." He felt uneasy when he heard "we." Ray swallowed hard. This wasn't a social call from a car wash colleague, nor a follow-up from the Thompson twins.
This was something entirely different, something that smelled of trouble. He tried to project a lack of confidence by taking a deep breath. He had the impression that the complexity of this new life was already much higher than he could have ever imagined.