Signals From Tomorrow

CHAPTER 4: The System Activates

Ethan sat cross-legged on his bed, the phone resting lightly in his palms, and read the new message again and again. until the words felt burned into his memory.

Prediction 002: Tomorrow at 10:17 AM, during the History lesson, Mr. Hale will announce a surprise test. The questions will come entirely from Chapter 4 of the textbook. Time confirmed. Accuracy guaranteed.

It was different from the first message. That one had been broad, describing an event happening somewhere out in the world, something that felt distant even though he had witnessed it. This one was personal. It was about his life, his school, his daily routine. And it was specific—10:17 AM, Chapter 4, surprise test.

There was no room for interpretation, no room for chance, no room to call it a lucky guess.

The first prediction had proven the phone worked. This one proved it could see into the small, private details of his existence.

He set the device down gently on the mattress beside him, as if it were made of glass and might shatter if he handled it too roughly. He leaned back against the headboard of his bed, staring at it, watching the soft blue light illuminate the dust motes dancing in the air around it.

System scan complete. All core functions active.

The words from earlier echoed in his mind. So this was it. The initial phase was over. Whatever this thing was, whatever it was designed to do, it was now fully awake, fully functional, and ready to show him everything.

For a long time, he didn’t move.

He just sat there, letting the reality of the situation settle over him. He thought back to earlier that day, hiding in the janitor’s closet, feeling small and helpless, convinced that his life would always be about running, hiding, and surviving. He thought about dinner, sitting at the table, listening to his family talk about luck and success as if those things were things you were born with—things that Jeffrey had and he simply did not.

But now, here was something that didn’t care about luck. Here was something that didn’t care if you were popular or quiet, bright or average, seen or invisible. It just knew. It just told the truth.

Slowly, almost cautiously, Ethan reached out and picked up his History textbook from the pile of books on his desk. He flipped it open, turning the pages until he found Chapter 4.

He had glanced over it briefly a few weeks ago, but like most things in school, it had felt like just another thing he had to get through, just another thing that didn’t really matter. He certainly hadn’t memorised it, and he knew for a fact that Mr. Hale had never mentioned anything about a test. The class had been moving slowly, working through Chapter 3 just that morning.

If this was true… if the test really was coming…

A strange feeling began to rise in his chest.

It wasn’t excitement exactly, though there was a flicker of that there. It was something stronger, something heavier. It was the feeling of knowing something that no one else knew. It was power.

For the first time in as long as he could remember, Ethan didn’t feel like the person things happened to. He felt like the person who knew what was coming.

He opened his notebook, pulled out a pen, and began to study.

—

The morning sun broke through the thin curtains of Ethan’s room, casting golden stripes across the floor and waking him up earlier than usual. He hadn’t slept well. He had stayed up late reading through Chapter 4, making notes, memorising dates, names, and events, his eyes constantly drifting back to the phone which he had placed carefully on his bedside table.

It had stayed quiet for the rest of the night. No new messages had appeared, no new predictions had flashed across the screen. It had simply rested there, dark and silent, as if conserving its energy, waiting for the right moment to speak again.

But even though it was quiet, Ethan could feel it. It was like having a second heartbeat in the room. A constant reminder that nothing was going to be the same anymore.

He got dressed, packed his bag carefully, and headed downstairs.

The house was already awake and busy. His mother was making breakfast, the radio playing softly in the background. His father was reading the newspaper again, sipping coffee. And of course, Jeffrey was already at the table, chattering away happily, telling them about the game he was going to play with his friends later.

“Morning, Ethan!” Jeffrey called out cheerfully as he walked in. “You look like you’re in a good mood today. Did you sleep well?”

Ethan paused, surprised. He hadn’t even realised he was in a good mood. He had been so focused on what he knew, so aware of the secret he was carrying, that he hadn’t noticed the way his shoulders felt lighter, or how he wasn’t walking with his head down as he usually did.

“Yeah,” Ethan said, offering a small, genuine smile. “Yeah, I slept fine. Just… got some work done last night, that’s all.”

His mother looked up from the stove, her eyebrows raising slightly. “Work? You never usually work this hard unless you’re in trouble. What’s going on?”

There it was. That voice again.

That underlying assumption that if he was doing something right, there must be a catch, or he must be trying to fix something he had broken. It was almost funny now. She thought he was working because he had done something wrong. She had no idea he was working because he knew exactly what was coming.

“Nothing,” Ethan said, helping himself to toast. “Just… trying to keep up, that’s all.”

“Well, it’s good to see,” his father said, though he didn’t look up from his paper. “Maybe if you applied yourself a bit more, you’d have the same kind of success your brother has.”

Ethan bit his tongue to stop himself from saying anything. In the past, comments like that would have stung. They would have made him feel small and worthless. But today, they just sounded… ignorant. They sounded like people talking about things they didn’t understand, while he stood there holding all the answers.

“Maybe,” Ethan said simply.

Breakfast passed quickly. No one asked him about his day, or what he was looking forward to. They talked about the promotion, about Jeffrey’s upcoming sports day, about all the good things that were happening to them. Ethan listened, nodding when he was supposed to, but his mind was somewhere else entirely. He was counting down the minutes.

By 9:00 AM, he was walking through the school gates.

The familiar noise hit him immediately—shouting voices, slamming lockers, the thud of running feet. This was the place where he usually felt most vulnerable, most afraid, most like prey. But today, as he walked down the corridor, he felt different. He felt alert. He felt ready.

He kept the phone safely tucked in the inner pocket of his blazer, his hand resting lightly over it from time to time, just to remind himself it was there.

The morning lessons passed slowly. Maths, English, Geography—they all felt like just waiting. He listened, he took notes, but his eyes were always on the clock above the blackboard, watching the hands move around the face, inching closer and closer to 10:17 AM.

10:00… 10:05… 10:10…

The bell rang for the start of the History lesson, and students began to file into the classroom, chatting and laughing as they took their usual seats. Mr. Hale walked in, carrying his usual pile of books and papers, his expression as stern and serious as it always was.

“Alright everyone, settle down,” he said, placing his books on his desk. “Take your seats. We’ve got a lot to get through today.”

Ethan sat in his usual spot near the back of the room, his notebook open, his pen ready. He glanced up at the clock.

10:12… 10:14… 10:16…

He held his breath.

Mr. Hale was talking about the events they had been studying the previous day, walking back and forth in front of the class, pointing to the timeline on the wall. He stopped mid-sentence, glanced down at his watch, and then looked up at the whole room.

“Actually,” he said, his voice shifting tone, becoming sharper, more authoritative. “Before we go any further… I’ve decided it’s time to check how well you’ve been studying on your own. We’ve covered a lot of ground recently, and I need to know who is keeping up and who is falling behind. So, we’re going to have a test. Right now.”

A collective groan went up from every corner of the room. Students slumped in their seats, muttering complaints and panicked whispers.

“Aw, come on, sir!”

“We didn’t know about this!”

“That’s not fair!”

Mr. Hale raised a hand to silence them. “Life isn’t fair. And tests don’t always come with warning. You should be studying every day, not just when I tell you to. Now, clear your desks. The test is on Chapter 4 of your textbooks. You have thirty minutes. Begin.”

Ethan sat there as the room erupted into quiet chaos. He watched as students frantically flipped through their books, trying to skim-read pages they hadn’t looked at in weeks. He watched as faces fell, realising how much they didn’t know. He watched as people whispered to each other, trying to figure out what was important and what wasn’t.

And Ethan? He simply opened his notebook, turned to the pages he had filled the night before, and began to write.

He knew every date. He knew every name. He knew every cause and every effect. He knew exactly what answers were required, exactly how the questions were phrased, exactly what Mr. Hale expected to see.

For the next thirty minutes, he wrote steadily while the rest of the class struggled. It was easy. It was simple. It was like he had been given the answers to a puzzle before anyone else had even seen the pieces.

When the time was up and Mr. Hale called for everyone to put their pens down, Ethan closed his book calmly and handed his work in. He sat back in his chair, feeling a strange sense of calm wash over him.

It was true. Every single word of it was true.

The system wasn’t just active. It was perfect.

As the students began to leave the room, still grumbling and worrying about their marks, Ethan hung back for just a moment. When the room was empty and quiet, he pulled the phone out of his pocket. He pressed the button to wake the screen.

Just as he expected, the display had changed again.

"Prediction 002: Confirmed. Accuracy rate: 100%. Subject understanding: High. Processing new data."

And below that, lines of text began to scroll upwards, appearing one after another, fast and precise, as if the machine was working faster than the eye could keep up with.

"System fully operational. Predictions will now be issued at varying intervals. They will cover events of different scale and importance. Some will affect you directly. Some will affect people around you. Some will affect things you have not yet imagined. All will be accurate. All will be true."

Ethan read the words, his heart beating faster with every line.

"You have proven you can recognise the truth. You have proven you can use the information provided. The learning phase is complete. Welcome to the new way of seeing the world, Ethan. There is no going back to what was normal before. From this moment on, you will see what others cannot. You will know what others will never guess. You are the first. You are the observer. You are the keeper of what is to come."

He stared at the screen, his mind reeling. It was telling him that this was just the beginning. That what he had experienced so far was nothing compared to what was coming.

“What now?” he whispered to the device, his voice barely audible in the empty room. “What happens next?”

The screen flickered once, and the long lines of text vanished, replaced by one short, sharp, clear message.

"Prediction 003: This afternoon, at 3:42 PM, Marcus and his group will wait by the back gate. They intend to corner you, take your bag, and destroy your work. They have planned this for three days. Time confirmed. Details verified. You have been warned."

Ethan froze.

Marcus. The leader of the bullies. The boy who had been chasing him just yesterday afternoon. The boy who made sure Ethan’s life was miserable every single day.

They were waiting for him. They had planned it. They knew exactly where he would usually be, exactly what route he would take to get home, exactly how to catch him when he was alone and defenceless.

In the past, this message would have filled him with terror. He would have felt that familiar cold dread in his stomach, his hands shaking, his mind racing as he tried to figure out how to run or hide or escape. He would have felt helpless, knowing that no matter what he did, they always seemed to find him.

But things were different now.

He wasn’t walking into this blind anymore. He wasn’t just the victim waiting to be found.

He knew.

He knew when. He knew where. He knew what they planned to do.

And if he knew… then he could do something about it.

Ethan closed his hand around the phone, his fingers tightening around the cool metal casing. He looked out the classroom window, down at the school grounds, and then toward the road that led home.

They think they have the advantage, he thought, a small, determined feeling rising in his chest. They think they know what’s going to happen. But they don’t know the truth. They don’t know that I know everything.

The system was active. It was working perfectly. It had proven itself beyond any shadow of a doubt.

And now, for the first time in his life, Ethan didn’t have to be afraid anymore.

Because the future wasn’t something that happened to him anymore.

It was something he could prepare for. Something he could navigate. Something he could use.

He slipped the phone back into his pocket, zipping it securely shut, and walked out of the classroom with his head held higher than it had ever been before.

The game had changed.

And he was no longer playing defence.