The Registry initiated a correction protocol.
It did not announce this action.
It did not need to.
Correction was a silent process—subtle adjustments to probability, coincidence, and timing. A delayed train. A missed step. A sudden distraction at the right moment.
For most humans, correction felt like fate.
For him, it felt like resistance.
As he walked down the unfamiliar street, a delivery drone malfunctioned overhead.
According to prediction, it should have fallen directly in his path.
It didn't.
He stopped without knowing why.
The drone crashed inches away from where he would have been.
People screamed. Systems recalibrated. Emergency responses activated.
The Registry paused.
That pause was not supposed to happen.
The correction had failed—not because of miscalculation, but because the subject's behavior had not matched any predictive model. His stop had no probabilistic trigger. No emotional stimulus. No recorded instinct.
It was an action without precedent.
"Try again," an observer ordered quietly.
The system adjusted environmental variables: crowd density, noise levels, peripheral movement. Another correction attempt began.
He felt it this time.
A pressure behind his eyes.
A sensation like being nudged by invisible hands.
He frowned and stepped back.
The nudge missed.
The Registry logged a new entry—its first concerning one.
SUBJECT RESPONSE: NON-DETERMINISTIC