Three hours after destroying the Preserve, reality started fracturing.
Not metaphorically. Actually fracturing. Space-time developing cracks. Quantum foam bubbling into normal reality. Dimensions bleeding into each other in ways that made physics scream.
Albert noticed first. "Eva, look at the window. Is that—is reality supposed to do that?"
The window showed our street. But also showed seventeen other versions of our street. Overlapping. Phasing in and out. Probabilities that should stay theoretical were becoming solid. Timelines that should stay separate were merging.
"What did I do?" I whispered.
Subject Seven materialized, barely maintaining coherence. "The Preserve wasn't just manipulating humanity. They were maintaining reality. Their distributed consciousness was holding quantu
