The morning sun filtered into the Weiss villa through tall windows framed in carved walnut. The estate was calm, dignified, and deceptively ordinary—like every day before something significant happened. Stefan descended the staircase with the quiet precision of someone who had already lived more than one life.
He could feel it.
Change was in the air.
His investment in Nintendo—that carefully calculated move meant to ripple through the coming decade—had begun to create its first subtle waves. But the ripples were not the problem.
It was the eyes watching them.
The car ride to the International Lyceum was uneventful, but Stefan noticed the same black sedan twice—once near the bakery at the corner of Rue de Lausanne, and again half a kilometer from the school gates. Too far to claim coincidence, but too discreet to be amateur.
Whoever was tailing him knew what they were doing.
Another variable… great.
Stefan stepped out of the car with a polite nod to the driver and crossed the paved path toward the main building. His classmates were loudly debating something about an upcoming math competition, but his mind was far away.
He had three priorities today:
Confirm if the tail he sensed was political, corporate, or personal.
Evaluate the early feedback from Nintendo and consolidate his future investment moves.
Prepare for the growing instability caused by a future he was already altering.
As he entered the hallway, Elena Varga intercepted him with her typical straightforward tone. "You look unusually tense."
"I'm fine," he answered.
"You're lying."
"…Yes." He softened the reply with a hint of a smile.
Elena didn't insist, but her gaze lingered. She had sharp instincts—almost too sharp.
Julien bounced into the conversation moments later, dramatically waving a magazine. "Mes amis! Look! The Americans call it 'the video game market boom.' Boom, I say!"
He shoved the cover into Stefan's hands.
Stefan already knew the contents by memory, but pretending surprise was safer. "This is… earlier than expected."
"Earlier?" Julien frowned. "Do you have a personal timeline we're following?"
You have no idea.
Before he could answer, Lucas appeared, raising a brow. "Stefan, your driver circled the block twice before dropping you off. That's unusual."
Stefan paused.
Lucas, unlike the others, didn't speak without reason.
"Did he?" Stefan asked softly.
"Yeah. And he wasn't looking for parking." Lucas's tone dropped to a whisper. "Is something going on?"
Yes. And it's getting worse.
But aloud, Stefan simply said: "I'll handle it."
Classes passed in a blur. But during lunch, Stefan excused himself and slipped out toward the courtyard where a quieter corner granted him a brief sanctuary.
His grandfather's political career had enemies. The Weiss family had rivals. And on top of that, Stefan's own actions—investments, influence, predictions—were beginning to reshape the early 1980s.
Every action had a shadow.
Every shadow had someone hiding inside it.
He lifted the magazine again, pretending to skim through the article on emerging gaming technologies. In reality, his mind raced.
Nintendo should still be underestimated at this stage… unless someone has already connected the dots.
He took a slow breath.
I need to test if the tail is connected to the company… or to my family.
Behind him, the faint crunch of steps on gravel.
Stefan didn't turn. "You may as well come out, Lucas. You're terrible at pretending to be inconspicuous."
A sigh. "How did you know?"
"You breathe loudly when you're nervous."
Lucas stepped out from behind the hedge, arms crossed. "Fine. But you're acting strange. I won't stop worrying unless you tell me something."
Stefan weighed the risks.
His instinct screamed don't involve them. But maybe giving Lucas a fragment of the truth would keep him cautious.
"There's someone following me," Stefan whispered.
Lucas's expression hardened instantly. "Who?"
"If I knew, this conversation would be shorter."
Silence settled.
Lucas nodded slowly. "Then I'll watch too."
Before Stefan could protest, Lucas added: "I don't need the details. I just need to make sure you're not facing it alone."
A warmth flickered in Stefan's chest—unexpected, inconvenient, and… appreciated.
"…Thank you," he said quietly.
They returned to class. But by the final bell, Stefan had a plan.
He exited the school through a different gate, doubling back across the campus while Lucas exited through the main entrance to act as a decoy. It was risky, but effective.
Within minutes, Stefan caught sight of the same black sedan creeping along the adjacent road.
But this time, someone stepped out.
A man in a dark gray coat, early 40s, unremarkable face—except for the sharp, calculating eyes of someone trained to notice everything.
Stefan slipped behind the stone column near the stadium and listened.
A second man approached the first.
"You sure it's the boy?"
"Positive. Intel says he's been making… unusual financial moves. Too unusual for his age."
Stefan's breath stilled.
So it was about Nintendo.
But the second voice added: "And there's pressure from the Senator. He wants any potential threats monitored. The Weiss family can't afford surprises right now."
A political enemy.
One of his grandfather's rivals.
Stefan's mind clicked through every name like a filing cabinet from another life.
Senator Henri Kessler.
A man whose political downfall in Stefan's first life had been slow, grotesque, and spectacular.
In this timeline? Kessler was still strong. Still dangerous. Still searching for any leverage.
So you've set your eyes on me…
Stefan listened closely as the men continued.
"The kid is too smart," the first man muttered. "His predictions, the timing, the investments… it's like he knows the future."
Stefan froze.
Those words were too close. Too precise. Too dangerous.
"We're not paid to explain," the second replied. "Just to watch."
"And if there's something to report?"
"Then the Senator acts."
The two returned to the sedan. It drove off.
Stefan stepped out from his hiding place only when the street fell silent again.
His pulse was steady—but only because he forced it to be.
It's happening sooner than expected. Someone noticed the pattern of my moves…
He walked back toward the front of the school, where Lucas had just finished distracting a few teachers.
"You good?" Lucas asked.
"Yes. And I have what I needed."
Stefan didn't elaborate. Lucas didn't ask.
When Stefan arrived home that evening, he finally allowed the weight of the day to settle.
The Weiss villa felt colder than usual.
His grandfather, sitting in the study, noticed immediately.
"You're quieter than normal," the old man remarked.
Stefan considered lying. But his grandfather was too perceptive.
"There were men following me."
The pen in his grandfather's hand stopped mid-stroke. "Who?"
"Kessler's people."
A flicker of anger darkened the old man's expression. "That vulture…"
Stefan continued, "They think my investment activity is suspicious."
His grandfather leaned back slowly, absorbing the implications. "I underestimated how soon he would target you."
Stefan's voice dropped to a whisper. "I didn't."
A silence stretched between them.
Finally, his grandfather said: "This is dangerous, Stefan. Very dangerous."
"I know."
"You must tread carefully."
Stefan nodded. "I already am."
Later that night, sitting alone in his room, Stefan opened his notebook.
He began rewriting several future plans. Adjusting dates. Modifying moves. Accelerating others. Slowing down some.
The timeline was shifting.
The future he remembered was beginning to deviate.
And then—
A sharp, cold sensation swept across his spine.
A feeling he hadn't experienced in two lifetimes.
A sense of displacement, subtle yet undeniable—like the universe itself had just exhaled.
"…The timeline changed again."
He didn't know how.
He didn't know where.
But he knew one thing:
Kessler's interference wasn't the cause. Something else… someone else… had just altered the board.
Stefan closed the notebook, eyes narrowing.
"Then I'll adapt."
He always did.
He always would.