Hope in the shadow of doubt

Jaxon walked with his hands in his pockets, his mind still replaying the visions he had seen the night before. The world around him felt dull in comparison—gray buildings, muted voices, and a sky that seemed smaller than before. It was a cruel contrast. He had glimpsed a version of humanity that had ascended beyond limitations, a civilization thriving on unity, intelligence, and telepathic connection. And yet, here he was, walking through streets filled with people locked in their own narrow worlds, unaware of what could be.

His footsteps echoed in his mind, rhythmic and almost meditative. He wasn't even sure where he was going. He just needed air—needed space to think. Simulation theory had come up in conversation before, but now it felt less like a theory and more like a crude reality. Were they all just running on pre-set loops, thinking their choices were their own when in reality, they were just responding to stimuli? Was free will even real?

A notification flickered across his vision—a chat from Chippernode. Jaxon ignored it. He wasn't in the mood for philosophical debates, even with someone as sharp as him. Not now.

Then he saw her.

Serene.

She was standing near a small food stand, her expression distant, her posture tense. She hadn't noticed him yet. Her fingers idly traced the edge of a water bottle she hadn't opened. There was something off about her—not just avoidance. Something deeper.

Jaxon had seen avoidance before. This was different.

He walked up beside her, standing just close enough for her to notice but not enough to make her feel cornered.

"You're going to stand there all day and not eat?" he said.

Selene flinched slightly but didn't turn to him. "Not hungry."

Jaxon glanced at the food vendor. "I'll get something then. You should too."

"I said I'm not hungry," she repeated, her voice sharp.

Jaxon ignored that and placed an order for two meals. He didn't say anything else as he paid, just stood there. The silence between them stretched, thick with unsaid words.

When the food was handed to him, he held one of the boxes out to her. "Take it."

She hesitated, her fingers hovering near the box. Then, without looking at him, she took it.

They walked to a nearby bench. She didn't eat, just held the box in her lap. Jaxon opened his own, taking a slow bite. The silence between them wasn't uncomfortable for him. He could wait.

After a while, Selene exhaled sharply, as if giving in to something. "You're not going to ask what's wrong?"

Jaxon chewed thoughtfully. "You didn't want me to."

She stared at him, her eyes searching his face. He met her gaze, calm and unwavering.

Selene looked away first. "I had a dream," she admitted.

Jaxon said nothing.

"It wasn't just a dream," she continued, her voice quieter now. "It felt... real. Too real."

Jaxon set his food down. "Tell me."

Selene hesitated, gripping the edges of the food box as if grounding herself. "I saw something terrible. The world—everything was collapsing. Fire. Screams. The sky was... wrong. And in the middle of it all, there was something watching. I don't know what it was, but I could feel it. It wasn't just destruction. It was something deliberate."

Jaxon listened intently.

"And then," she swallowed, her voice shaking slightly, "I saw you."

That made him pause.

"You were standing there," she whispered. "In the middle of it all. But you weren't afraid. You just looked at me, and you said something, but I couldn't hear it. And then everything turned to ash."

Jaxon leaned back slightly, processing.

Serene's breathing was uneven now, and she was gripping her own arms. "I woke up and... I haven't been able to shake it. It felt like more than just a nightmare. Like a warning."

Jaxon let that settle between them. He had seen something too. But his vision had been the opposite—a world thriving, reaching its peak.

Two extremes.

"I don't believe in fate," Jaxon finally said. "But I do believe in patterns."

Selene looked at him, waiting.

"What you saw—it might not be inevitable," he continued. "It might be a warning, or it might be a test. But the fact that you saw it at all means something."

Selene let out a bitter laugh. "And what am I supposed to do with that?"

Jaxon tilted his head slightly. "You tell me."

She shook her head, looking down. "You're always so... detached."

He considered that. "Or maybe I just see things differently."

The wind picked up slightly, rustling her hair. Jaxon didn't look away.

Then, almost too quietly, she whispered, "I don't want that future."

Jaxon exhaled through his nose. "Neither do I."

The air between them shifted. There was something raw in Serene's expression now, something vulnerable.

For once, she didn't look away.

And neither did he.

Then, as if acting on something beyond thought, Selene closed the distance between them. It wasn't hesitant. It wasn't unsure. It was deliberate.

Jaxon didn't move. He didn't need to.

For that brief moment, everything else disappeared—the visions, the doubts, the weight of knowledge.

And for the first time in a long time, Jaxon wasn't thinking.

Just existing.

Selene tensed up, gripping her drink a little too tightly. "That doesn't make sense," she muttered.

Jaxon leaned back, watching her reaction. "Why not? Infinite possibilities, infinite versions of you. One experiences peace, another faces destruction. Maybe your dream wasn't a warning—maybe it was a memory. From another you."

Selene exhaled sharply, avoiding his eyes. "That's insane."

"Is it?" Jaxon tilted his head slightly. "Have you ever had déjà vu? That weird knowing feeling, like something already happened? What if that's just echoes from another version of you? A different timeline bleeding into this one."

Selene looked away, fidgeting with her food. "Even if that's true, why would I see you saving me?"

Jaxon smirked slightly. "Good question." He leaned forward, lowering his voice. "Maybe I'm always saving you."

Selene nearly choked on her drink. "Excuse me?"

Jaxon shrugged, feigning innocence. "I'm just following the logic. If different versions of you experience different realities, then maybe—just maybe—there's a pattern." He smirked. "Maybe I'm always saving you."

Selene set down her cup with unnecessary force. "You sound ridiculous."

Jaxon leaned back, satisfied. "Do I? Or are you just mad because deep down, it feels true?"

She crossed her arms, glaring. "Nothing about you feels true.*"

Jaxon raised an eyebrow. "That's not what your dream said."

Serene's jaw tightened, her heartbeat betraying her. She couldn't admit it. She refused to admit it. "Shut up and eat your food."

Jaxon chuckled. "Yeah, that's what I thought."

As they finished their meal, a strange calm settled between them. Selene had spent most of the time deflecting, rolling her eyes at Jaxon's remarks, but deep down, something in his words gnawed at her. She hated to admit it, but she was starting to understand him.

Not just his logic. Him.

It wasn't that she suddenly agreed with everything he said, but for the first time, she realized Jaxon didn't just say things to sound smart—he actually believed them. And he was making her believe them too, whether she liked it or not.

As they stepped out of the restaurant, the city buzzed around them—hover cars hummed overhead, holographic advertisements shimmered on the sides of sleek buildings, and neon lights flickered in the distance. The streets were alive, but to Jaxon, it was just noise.

He walked beside her, hands in his pockets, gaze slightly distant. "Have you ever thought about how fragile all this is?" He gestured at their surroundings. "How it all depend on perception?"

Selene shot him a side glance. "What now?"

"The Simulation Theory," Jaxon said simply. "I never got to finish explaining it earlier."

Selene sighed. "Oh great. More existential nonsense."

Jaxon smirked but continued. "It's simple. If we ever reach the point of creating perfect simulations—ones so advanced that the people inside them think they're real—then logically, it's more likely that we're inside one right now than in the original, base reality."

Selene scoffed. "That's assuming someone even made the simulation in the first place."

"Exactly. And if we are in one, who made it? A civilization far ahead of us? A future version of ourselves?" He turned his head slightly. "What if the world you see is just rendered in real-time, only showing what you're looking at? What if, the moment you stop paying attention to something, it ceases to exist?"

Selene frowned. "That's insane."

"Is it? Think about video games. A character in a game doesn't 'see' beyond what the engine renders in front of them. Their world is only what's presented to them. If they were sentient, they wouldn't know the difference."

Selene fell silent.

Jaxon continued. "What if your memories aren't your memories? What if they're placed there, like save files loading into your consciousness? What if your past only exists because the simulation needs you to have one?"

Selene exhaled sharply. "Okay, stop."

Jaxon tilted his head. "Why?"

"Because if I think about this any harder, I'm going to have a mental breakdown."

Jaxon chuckled. "That's the fun part. Most people avoid these thoughts because they're scared. But I think it's liberating."

Selene narrowed her eyes at him. "How is any of this liberating?"

Jaxon looked up at the sky. "Because if we're in a simulation, then the limits we believe in aren't real. There's no 'impossible.'" He turned back to her. "If everything is code, then we can rewrite it."

Selene stared at him for a long moment.

"You actually believe that," she said, almost in awe.

Jaxon nodded. "Yeah. I do."

Selene let out a short, surprised laugh.

Jaxon raised an eyebrow. "Something funny?"

She shook her head, still chuckling. "No, it's just—of all the things I expected you to say, that wasn't one of them."

Jaxon smirked. "What, you thought I'd just start talking about homework?"

She folded her arms. "You basically just said we can hack reality like it's some kind of game."

He shrugged. "Maybe we can."

Selene gave him a look—half amused, half skeptical—but she didn't dismiss him outright. She wasn't sure if it was because she didn't want to, or because some part of her, no matter how small, actually found his theory intriguing.

"So what?" she challenged. "You think you're gonna wake up one day and start bending spoons with your mind?"

Jaxon smirked. "Maybe. Or maybe I'll just wake up."

Selene rolled her eyes but smiled. "You're impossible."

"But not improbable."

She shook her head, still laughing softly. "You actually believe this."

Jaxon didn't answer right away. Instead, he looked up at the sky again.Then, with the same quiet confidence that unnerved people, he simply said, "Yeah. I do."

And Serene, for all her sarcasm, for all her skepticism, didn't tell him he was wrong.

Selene felt lighter—like a weight had been lifted off her chest. The dream, the suffocating fear—it didn't feel as overwhelming anymore. Jaxon's words, as ridiculous as they sounded, had somehow chipped away at the terror that had been gripping her since she woke up.

But as relief settled in, a new thought took its place—one that made her stomach twist.

What if it was real?

What if it wasn't just some nightmare, but a glimpse of something that could happen, or worse—would happen?

Her fingers tightened around the edge of her sleeve as she walked beside Jaxon. He was still talking, still weaving his theory about reality and probabilities. His voice was steady, confident. But Serene's mind was elsewhere, replaying every second of that dream, every horrible detail.

She glanced at him. "You know, you're kinda terrifying when you talk like that."

Jaxon looked over. "Why?"

"Because you make it sound so possible."

He tilted his head slightly. "It is possible."

Selene sighed. "See? That's exactly what I mean."

He smirked. "Would you rather I lie?"

She hesitated. "...No."

Jaxon nodded. "Then accept it. If it can happen, it can be prevented."

Selene looked ahead, her mind racing. The dream no longer haunted her the way it had, but it left something else behind—an unease, a sense of urgency. If what Jaxon said was true... if her dream was more than just a dream...

Then they had to be ready.

Selene exhaled, her breath shaky. "So what do we do?"

Jaxon didn't answer immediately. He just kept walking, hands in his pockets, gaze fixed ahead. Finally, he said, "Nothing."

She stopped. "What?"

He turned slightly, meeting her eyes. "There's nothing we can do."

Selene frowned. "Then why did you say all that stuff about accepting it? About preventing it?"

Jaxon shrugged. "Because it makes it easier to live with."

She stared at him, waiting for some kind of reassurance, some logical next step. But there was none. Just that same, indifferent expression.

"So we just hope?" she asked, almost scoffing.

"Yeah," Jaxon said simply. "We just hope."

Selene let out a short, humorless laugh. "Great. That's comforting."

"It's realistic."

She shook her head, running a hand through her hair. "You're impossible."

Jaxon smirked. "And yet, you're still here."

Selene sighed, defeated. "Unfortunately."

Jaxon just chuckled. And for the first time in a long while, Selene didn't feel terrified—just... resigned.

As they reached her apartment complex, Selene slowed down, hesitating before the entrance. She turned to Jaxon, arms crossed, but her expression was softer now.

"Thanks," she muttered, barely meeting his gaze.

Jaxon raised a brow. "For what?"

She exhaled. "For... making this whole thing a little less terrifying. Even if you're an ass about it."

Jaxon smirked. "I'll take that as high praise."

She rolled her eyes but didn't move to leave just yet. A rare silence settled between them, neither awkward nor tense—just there.

Jaxon studied her face for a moment, then, before he could second-guess it, he leaned in and pressed a quick, deliberate kiss against her cheek.

Selene stiffened. "What the hell—"

"Consider it a glitch in the simulation," Jaxon interrupted, stepping back with a lazy smirk.

She stared at him, caught between flustered and murderous.

"You—!"

"Goodnight, Selene," he said, already turning away.

She stood frozen for a second before scoffing, storming toward her door. But even as she shut it behind her, she couldn't stop the heat rising to her face—or the ridiculous thought that maybe, just maybe, Jaxon was right.