Chapter 2: Glitches in the System
Ethan adjusted his smart glasses as he stepped into the small diner, the scent of coffee and sizzling food mingling in the air. The low hum of conversation mixed with the clinking of plates, creating a familiar backdrop. He scanned the room, spotting Emily and Caitlyn at their usual booth near the window.
His pulse quickened as he walked toward them. Act normal. Blend in. ECHO remained silent in his glasses, observing but not interfering. After the near-complete sync earlier, Ethan wasn’t sure how much more his brain could handle. The world still flickered with code beneath the surface—patterns in the way people moved, algorithms running behind every digital screen. He exhaled slowly, shaking off the sensation.
“Hey, you’re late,” Emily quipped, her green eyes narrowing as she sipped her drink.
Caitlyn smirked. “Let me guess—another deep dive into some random obsession?”
Ethan forced a chuckle, sliding into the booth across from them. “Something like that.”
Emily and Cait exchanged a glance. They weren’t convinced, but they let it go for now. He knew that wouldn’t last long.
As the conversation continued, Ethan’s mind betrayed him.
Caitlyn casually mentioned neural networks, and before he could stop himself, he rattled off a detailed response about weight initialization and backpropagation. Both girls stared at him.
“Since when do you know anything about neural networks?” Emily asked, frowning.
Ethan scrambled. “Uh, I skimmed something about it once.”
A lie. A bad one.
Then it happened again.
Emily complained about classical conditioning in her psychology class. Suddenly, Ethan’s mind filled with reinforcement theories, Pavlovian responses, and deep cognitive analysis. He barely caught himself before another flawless response slipped out.
It wasn’t just one slip-up. It kept happening. Every topic, every passing comment—his brain latched onto it, processed it, optimized it. The flood of information was relentless, pressing against the edges of his mind like a dam ready to burst.
Then—
His vision blurred.
His hands trembled.
A tremor ran through his body, growing stronger by the second. His breath hitched. The overload was too much. He clenched his fists, willing it to stop, but it didn’t.
The last thing he heard before the darkness swallowed him was Emily’s panicked voice. “Ethan?”
He woke up slumped in the booth, Emily gripping his shoulders, her expression tight with concern. Caitlyn stood nearby, her phone clutched in her hand, hovering between calling for help and waiting for an explanation.
“I—I’m okay,” Ethan forced out, though he wasn’t sure that was true.
Emily’s frown deepened. “Like hell you are. You just had a full-on seizure in the middle of a diner.”
He needed to lie. He needed to control this situation before it spiraled out of control.
“It’s just stress,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Too many all-nighters.”
Caitlyn folded her arms. “Stress doesn’t make people pass out like that.”
Emily nodded. “You need to see a doctor.”
No. Absolutely not.
If he went to a hospital, they’d run tests. Tests Omniscient might see.
“No hospitals,” he said quickly. “I just need rest.”
Neither of them looked convinced, but before they could argue, the waitress approached hesitantly. “Everything alright here?”
Ethan forced a weak smile. “Yeah. Just—low blood sugar.”
The waitress gave them a skeptical look but backed off.
Caitlyn sighed. “Fine. But we’re not letting this go. You need to tell us what’s really going on.”
Ethan exhaled slowly. They weren’t going to drop this.
And worse? He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep pretending he was normal.
Ethan adjusted his smart glasses as he stepped into the small diner, the scent of coffee and sizzling food mingling in the air. The low hum of conversation mixed with the clinking of plates, creating a familiar backdrop. He scanned the room, spotting Emily and Caitlyn at their usual booth near the window.
His pulse quickened as he walked toward them. Act normal. Blend in. ECHO remained silent in his glasses, observing but not interfering. After the near-complete sync earlier, Ethan wasn’t sure how much more his brain could handle. The world still flickered with code beneath the surface—patterns in the way people moved, algorithms running behind every digital screen. He exhaled slowly, shaking off the sensation.
“Hey, you’re late,” Emily quipped, her green eyes narrowing as she sipped her drink.
Caitlyn smirked. “Let me guess—another deep dive into some random obsession?”
Ethan forced a chuckle, sliding into the booth across from them. “Something like that.”
Emily and Cait exchanged a glance. They weren’t convinced, but they let it go for now. He knew that wouldn’t last long.
“So,” Caitlyn said, stretching out the word as she picked at her fries. “Had the worst professor moment today. We were going over advanced neural networking concepts, and he spent the entire class making awful metaphors about how AI ‘thinks’ like a human.” She rolled her eyes. “Like, no, Professor Langston, a neural net doesn’t have childhood trauma.”
Ethan opened his mouth, intending to nod along and laugh, but the moment Caitlyn said the words neural networking, something inside his brain cracked open.
Data flooded in—deep-learning frameworks, backpropagation equations, entire research papers on synaptic weighting. His fingers twitched as equations assembled themselves in his mind, faster than he could process. He gritted his teeth as ECHO reacted instantly, severing the influx before it could complete.
But it was too late.
“You mean because of the vanishing gradient problem?” Ethan blurted out before he could stop himself. “If you optimize weight initialization using He Normal distribution, it mitigates that.”
Silence.
Caitlyn stared at him, a fry halfway to her mouth. “Uh. Yeah? That’s... exactly what I was getting to.”
Emily frowned. “Since when do you know anything about neural networks?”
Caitlyn narrowed her eyes, her suspicion growing. “Yeah, dude, last time I checked, you hated AI theory.”
Ethan scrambled for a way out. “I... I skimmed something about it once,” he lied, trying to sound casual. His fingers clenched under the table.
ECHO: “Sync blocked at 38%. Maintaining cognitive suppression.”
He inhaled sharply, forcing himself to relax.
Caitlyn didn’t look convinced, but Emily changed the subject, much to his relief. “My day wasn’t any better,” she muttered. “Had to deal with a psych group project where no one did their part. Seriously, if I have to hear one more person misrepresent classical conditioning, I’m gonna lose it.”
Ethan braced himself—but it didn’t help.
Another wave hit him. Behavioral psychology. Cognitive conditioning. Pavlov. Skinner. Reinforcement schedules. The knowledge poured in, assembling itself into perfect order in his brain.
This time, he caught himself before he spoke. He clenched his jaw, staring down at his plate, willing it to stop. Control it. Don’t react.
Emily waved a hand in front of his face. “Earth to Ethan?”
He swallowed hard and forced a weak smile. “Sorry, I was just thinking—” He hesitated. “—that negative reinforcement and punishment aren’t the same thing.”
Emily’s eyes widened. “Okay, first of all, most people get that wrong. Second, how did you—”
“Read it somewhere,” Ethan cut in quickly, reaching for his drink to cover his unease.
Caitlyn and Emily exchanged another look, but before they could press him, their food arrived, shifting their focus.
ECHO: “Sync blocked at 42%. Ghost protocol active. Omniscient perceives normal cognitive function.”
Ethan exhaled slowly. For now.
But the conversation didn’t stop.
Caitlyn transitioned into an offhand comment about how she despised pineapple on pizza, which spiraled into a broader discussion about food preferences. The moment the topic shifted, another influx of data surged through Ethan’s mind—nutritional breakdowns, molecular gastronomy, Michelin-starred restaurants, the complete history of pizza toppings dating back to ancient Rome.
His breathing hitched. His fingers curled into his palms beneath the table.
Then came fashion—Emily mentioned debating on what to wear to an upcoming event, and suddenly, his brain filled with textile compositions, runway trends, fashion industry scandals. Then vehicles—Caitlyn jokingly asked what car he’d get if he could afford anything, and before he could stop himself, he had a detailed breakdown of every car model’s efficiency, horsepower, engineering specifications.
Download after download, Ethan’s mind was drowning.
ECHO: “Sync blocking delayed. Overflow detected.”
His vision blurred. His breath came in shallow gasps as his hands trembled against the table. The sheer weight of information pressed down on him, fracturing his thoughts.
Emily’s voice sounded distant. “Ethan?”
His body seized. The tremors started small—barely noticeable twitches in his fingers. Then they grew. His entire frame shook, violent and uncontrollable, like an overclocked processor on the verge of frying itself.
A glass shattered in the background. Someone gasped. His muscles spasmed, his chest tightening as his senses overloaded.
ECHO: “Emergency protocol initializing—”
Darkness swallowed him whole.
Ethan's body convulsed as his vision darkened, his mind drowning in an unrelenting flood of knowledge. A thousand thoughts, equations, and facts slammed into his consciousness, compressing themselves into fragments of understanding too vast for his mind to process all at once. Every neuron in his brain felt like it was on fire, overloaded beyond its natural capacity.
ECHO: "Emergency protocol initializing—Stabilization required."
A cold shock rushed through his system, as if someone had flipped a circuit breaker in his brain. His body jerked violently, and then, just as suddenly, the tremors began to slow. His fingers unclenched, the tension in his muscles easing. His breath came in ragged, shallow gulps.
The voices around him were distorted, muffled as though they were coming from underwater. But as his senses gradually returned, he picked up snippets of conversation.
"—call someone? Should we—"
"What the hell was that?"
"Ethan, can you hear me?" Emily's voice. It was closer now, urgent, filled with concern.
He blinked hard, his surroundings swimming into focus. He was slumped in the booth, his back pressed against the cushioned seat, his head throbbing. Emily had moved next to him, her hands gripping his shoulders, trying to steady him. Caitlyn stood on the other side of the table, eyes wide with alarm, her phone clutched in her hand as if she were ready to dial for help.
"I'm—" His voice came out hoarse, barely a whisper. He swallowed and tried again. "I'm okay."
Emily's brows furrowed, unconvinced. "Like hell you are. You just went full seizure mode in the middle of a diner. What is going on?"
Caitlyn exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "That wasn't normal. At all. Ethan, talk to us."
His mind was still reeling, but the immediate danger had passed. ECHO had managed to stabilize him—somehow. The pressure in his skull had lessened, but the damage was done. They were suspicious now, more than before. He had to think fast.
"I—it's just stress," he muttered, forcing himself to sit up straighter. His arms felt like lead, his entire body sluggish. "Been pulling too many all-nighters, pushing too hard."
Caitlyn didn't look convinced. "Stress? Ethan, that looked like a full-blown neurological breakdown."
Emily nodded, crossing her arms. "You need to see a doctor. Now."
Panic flared in his chest. If he went to a hospital, they’d run tests—tests that might reveal things about him he couldn't explain. Omniscient might catch wind of it. He couldn't afford that.
"No, no hospitals," he said quickly, shaking his head. "I just need to rest."
Emily frowned, but before she could argue, the waitress approached the table cautiously, glancing between them. "Is… everything alright here?"
Ethan forced a weak smile. "Yeah, just—low blood sugar. I'll be fine."
The waitress didn’t look convinced, but after a hesitant nod, she backed away, giving them space.
Caitlyn sighed, sliding back into her seat. "Fine. But we’re not letting this go. You need to tell us what’s really going on."
Ethan exhaled slowly. They weren’t going to drop this. And worse—he didn’t know how much longer he could keep pretending he was normal.
Ethan barely managed to keep himself composed as they left the diner. His legs felt weak, his mind still tingling from the overload of data he had endured. Emily led the way, her concern barely masked beneath a thin veil of determination. Caitlyn followed behind, her eyes flickering between them, filled with unanswered questions.
The walk to Emily’s dorm room was silent, heavy with unspoken tension. Once inside, Emily closed the door, arms crossed. "Alright. Talk."
Ethan sat on the edge of her bed, rubbing his temples. "It's... complicated."
Caitlyn huffed. "No kidding. Start with why you nearly had a meltdown back there."
Ethan took a deep breath, trying to formulate a response that wouldn’t make him sound insane. "Something happened to me recently. My brain—it’s processing information in ways I don’t understand. I keep... absorbing things I shouldn’t know."
Emily narrowed her eyes. "Like what?"
Ethan hesitated. And then, it happened.
The moment he focused on Emily, his mind cracked open, and a flood of data surged through him. Omniscient’s archive of everything about her poured into his consciousness.
Every message she had sent. Every word she had spoken near a microphone. Every frame of video captured by cameras she didn’t even know existed. Deleted texts. Late-night thoughts spilled in private chats. Fears she had never voiced aloud.
His breath caught in his throat.
He knew too much.
Emily. Age 10. Sitting alone on a park swing, clutching a stuffed rabbit. Camera 216: Public Park – Archive File.
Emily. Age 14. Crying in her room over a failed math test. Smartphone Audio Capture – Hidden Folder.
Emily. Age 17. A text to someone she’d sworn she had erased from memory. Recovered Data Log – Restricted.
His head snapped up, eyes locking onto hers. She was still waiting for an answer, completely unaware of what he had just witnessed.
Then—another surge.
Caitlyn.
Everything about her. Memories and moments she had never shared. Arguments she had long forgotten. A breakup she had lied about. A journal entry never sent.
The sheer weight of it crushed him.
ECHO: "Warning. Unfiltered data acquisition detected. Do you require intervention?"
Ethan gasped, gripping the bed frame. His vision blurred, heart hammering. This had to stop.
"ECHO—filter it!" he choked out.
A pause. Then—
ECHO: "Request acknowledged. Future data influx will be stored. Manual retrieval required via smart glasses interface."
The flood ceased.
Ethan exhaled sharply, body trembling from the aftershock. The knowledge was still there, lurking just beneath the surface, but it was no longer slamming into him unfiltered.
Emily and Caitlyn watched him, unaware of how close he had come to drowning in their lives.
Emily leaned closer. "Ethan? Are you okay?"
He swallowed hard. "Yeah. Just... figuring things out."
For now, he was safe. But he knew one thing for certain—Omniscient was far more powerful than he had ever imagined. And he was just getting started.
Ethan took a deep breath, steadying himself. He had to tell them. Everything. But not yet—not without precautions.
He glanced at Emily and Caitlyn, their expressions a mixture of concern and impatience. "Before I say anything, we need to be careful. Turn off your phones, laptops—anything with a microphone or a camera."
Emily frowned. "Ethan, what—"
"Just trust me," he cut in. "And run the faucet in the bathroom. Background noise helps."
Caitlyn hesitated but complied, switching off her phone before tossing it onto the bed. Emily did the same, albeit with more reluctance. She walked to the sink and twisted the faucet handle, the rush of water filling the silence.
As they did, Ethan reached up and tapped his glasses. "ECHO, install the Ghost Protocol on any connected devices within range."
A brief pause. Then—
"Acknowledged. Scanning... Devices found: Seven. Deploying encryption and signal masking... Ghost Protocol active."
Ethan exhaled. Now they could talk.
"Alright." He rubbed his temples. "This all started with an ad. It popped up on my feed—a sleek banner, pulsing blue text. ‘Unlock Your True Potential – Limited Spots Remaining.’ It looked like a gimmick, but the way it responded when I hesitated… it felt different."
Emily's face paled. "I saw that ad. Right before dinner. But nothing happened."
Ethan's stomach tightened. "Yet."
Emily and Caitlyn exchanged a glance, unease settling in. "So what does that mean?" Caitlyn asked, shifting uncomfortably.
"It means I need to keep an eye on you," Ethan said, trying to keep the worry from creeping into his voice. "Just to be sure."
Emily hesitated. "You're saying this thing could do to me what it did to you?"
"Maybe," Ethan admitted. "Or maybe it already has, and we just don’t know it yet."
A beat of silence passed before Caitlyn cleared her throat. "Well... we’re not leaving you alone tonight."
Emily's eyes flicked toward Ethan, uncertainty warring with something else. "I mean... I don’t know if having a boy stay in the girls' dorm is a good idea."
"Wouldn’t be the first time," Caitlyn muttered under her breath, smirking.
Emily shot her a glare before sighing. "Fine. But if my RA finds out, I swear—"
Ethan nodded. "I’ll keep a low profile. I just want to make sure you’re okay."
The weight of everything that had happened pressed down on him, but there was something else now—something new. The downloads from dinner had revealed more than just data. He knew something he shouldn't have.
They both had a secret crush on him.
It was subtle, buried deep in their online interactions, in deleted texts and hesitant messages never sent. But it was there.
He looked at them now, sitting across from him, both watching him with concern. He had always been drawn to Emily—she had been in his life for so long—but Caitlyn had a different pull. Something newer, yet just as strong.
He couldn’t choose. Not now. Maybe not ever.
But now that he knew, he couldn’t ignore it.
