The coffee shop incident replayed in Kael's mind as he walked home through Seattle's afternoon drizzle.
He'd stolen skills from a Nexus construct before the merge even began. The corrupted system pulsed at the edge of his vision, displaying his new abilities like trophies.
Back in his apartment, Kael pulled out a legal pad and began writing. Names, dates, locations, everything he remembered from the original timeline that could give Dorian power.
"Marcus Webb - Day 3, joins Dorian's faction as information broker"
"Sarah Chen - Day 7, becomes Dorian's lieutenant after Kael vouches for her"
"The Underground Market - Day 12, Dorian gains control"
Each name represented a stepping stone in Dorian's rise. In the original timeline, Kael had helped with most of these acquisitions, thinking he was supporting a friend's ambitions.
His phone buzzed. Text from Dorian: "Still thinking about that weird woman. Want to grab dinner and talk?"
Kael ignored he message. Domian could wait.
He needed equipment. In the original timeline, he'd entered the merge with nothing but desperation and naive hope. This time, he'd be armed.
The black market operated out of a pawn shop three blocks from Pike Place Market. Kael had discovered it months after the merge in the original timeline, when survival required bending legal boundaries. The owner, a grizzled ex-military, dealt in items the authorities preferred not to acknowledge.
"Looking for anything specific?" Rodriguez didn't look up from cleaning a pistol behind the counter.
" I need something like a combat knife. Something that won't break."
The man studied him with calculating eyes. "You're young for that kind of purchase. Better not ruin your life over something stupid."
"I'm old enough to pay."
"Fair point." Rodriguez disappeared into the back room and returned with a black tactical knife. The blade was seven inches of carbon steel, perfectly balanced and razor sharp.
"Kid, I've sold blades to gang bangers and soccer moms having midlife crises. You don't fit either category, which makes me curious. But curiosity isn't good for business."
Kael hefted the weapon, feeling its weight settle naturally into his grip. The stolen Combat Mastery skill whispered approval, this was a tool built for killing.
"How much?"
"Three hundred."
Kael paid in cash without haggling. Rodriguez wrapped the knife in oiled cloth and handed it over with professional discretion.
Outside the pawn shop, Kael checked his phone. Six missed calls from Dorian, each one more urgent than the last. The final voicemail was three words: "Call me back."
Instead of calling Dorian back, Kael walked to a nearby internet café and paid for an hour of computer time. He pulled up news websites, social media feeds, anything that might give him information about the approaching merge.
Most sources showed normal Tuesday evening content. Sports scores, political arguments, celebrity gossip. But buried in the feeds, he found what he was looking for, scattered reports of unusual phenomena. Power outages, animals ehaving strangely. Amateur photographers capturing unexplained lights in the sky.
The merge was coming, exactly as he remembered. But this time, he'd be ready.
His phone rang. Dorian's name flashed on the screen.
"Where are you?" Dorian's voice carried genuine worry. "I've been calling for hours."
"Busy."
"Doing what?"
"Preparing."
A pause. "Preparing for what?"
Kael looked out the café window at the darkening sky. Storm clouds gathered on the horizon, moving too fast and too purposefully to be natural weather.
"Tomorrow," he said simply.
"Kael, you're scaring me. Ever since that woman in the coffee shop, you've been acting—"
"Different?"
"Yes. Like you know something I don't."
The irony was perfect. Dorian, who had orchestrated betrayal across a decade of friendship, worried about Kael keeping secrets.
"Maybe I do."
"Then tell me. We're partners, remember? Brothers."
That word again. Brother. The lie that had gotten him killed.
"I'll see you tomorrow, Dorian."
Kael hung up before his friend could respond. Through the café window, he watched the first lightning strikes begin to flicker in the distance. The storms were ahead of schedule, just like everything else since his regression.
His phone buzzed with an incoming news alert: *BREAKING: Massive electrical storm systems forming over major metropolitan areas worldwide.*