Signals From Tomorrow

CHAPTER 5: Proof

The bell rang out across the school grounds, loud and sharp, signalling the end of lessons for the day. The familiar roar of students leaving class rose up immediately—shouting, laughing, the thud of hundreds of feet moving together toward the exits.

Ethan stood up slowly from his desk, packing his books away with deliberate care. His mind was fixed entirely on the message glowing in his pocket:

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.

In the past, knowledge like this would have made him sick with anxiety. He would have been looking over his shoulder every few seconds, his hands shaking, his mind scrambling to think of somewhere to hide or a different way home. But today, there was no fear. There was only the clear, sharp feeling of having all the information.

They had planned it for three days. Three whole days of thinking they were clever, thinking they had set the perfect trap, thinking they knew exactly how Ethan would act.

But they didn’t know he could read the script.

He walked out of the classroom and joined the flow of students moving down the corridor, but instead of heading toward the main exit—the route he always took, the route they would expect him to take—he turned off early, slipping down a quieter side hallway that led toward the far end of the school grounds. It was a longer way home, and it took him past the old sports courts and the overgrown edge of the field, but it was a route he rarely used, one that Marcus and his friends would never think to check.

He checked the time on the phone as he walked. 3:35 PM. He had seven minutes before they would be in position, waiting for someone who was never going to arrive.

As he walked, he found himself looking at the screen again, half-hoping, half-expecting, that there would be more. And sure enough, as he watched, the display shifted. Beneath the warning about Marcus, new text began to appear line by line, clear and precise.

"Additional predictions generated. To confirm system reliability and eliminate all doubt, events of varying scale and probability will now be displayed. All will be verifiable within the next twenty-four hours. Observe. Confirm. Understand."

Ethan stopped walking for a moment, leaning against the wall of the empty corridor, his eyes fixed on the words.

Eliminate all doubt.

That was exactly what this was. The first two predictions had been impressive, but there was still space in his mind to wonder—was it just coincidence? Was it just luck? Could there be some other explanation?

This was the system answering those questions for him. It was going to give him proof. So much proof, so many small and specific things, that there would be no room left for doubt. He would know, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that what he held was real.

He read through the list that followed:

"Prediction 004: At 3:48 PM, a student named Lila will drop her art portfolio near the main entrance. It will scatter across the wet pavement. A boy wearing a blue hoodie will stop to help her."

"Prediction 005: At 4:03 PM, the traffic lights on West Street will malfunction. They will remain red for exactly four minutes and twelve seconds, causing a queue of vehicles stretching back to the corner shop."

"Prediction 006: At 4:21 PM, the old oak tree at the edge of the park will shed a large branch due to the wind. It will land in the grass, causing no damage or injury."

" Prediction 007: At 5:00 PM, your mother will receive a phone call. It will be from her manager, informing her that she has been selected to work extra shifts over the coming month. She will be pleased, but will worry about how to fit it all in."

" Prediction 008: At 6:14 PM, Jeffrey will lose his favourite red pen. He will search everywhere for it, growing increasingly frustrated, before finding it tucked inside the pages of his geography textbook at 6:37 PM."

The list went on and on. Small things. Tiny details. Moments that were so ordinary, so random, that no one could ever guess them in advance.

They were the kind of things that happened every single day, things that no one paid attention to… but things that were impossible to predict unless you knew exactly what was going to happen.

Ethan stared at the screen, his heart beating faster. This wasn’t just telling him about big accidents or tests anymore. This was showing him that it knew everything. It knew the small, unimportant moments that made up the fabric of life itself.

He started walking again, moving faster now, eager to see if they would come true. He was going to watch them happen, one by one, and turn every single one into proof.

He reached the edge of the school grounds and looked back toward the main gate.

From where he stood, hidden behind a line of tall bushes, he could see the group of boys gathered there. Marcus and his friends were leaning against the fence, looking impatient, checking their watches, staring intently at the doors of the school building, waiting for him to walk out.

They were exactly where the phone said they would be. At exactly the time it said they would be there.

Point one confirmed, Ethan thought, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

He turned and continued on his way, following the long path around the edge of the playing fields. It took him ten minutes to reach the main road, and as he approached the entrance, he glanced toward the spot the phone had mentioned.

It was 3:47 PM.

He slowed his pace, hanging back near the wall so he could watch without being seen.

A minute passed. Then, exactly as the clock struck 3:48 PM, a girl came walking out of the doors carrying a large black portfolio case—Lila, he recognised her from art class. She was hurrying, looking down at her bag, and as she stepped onto the pavement, her foot slipped slightly on the damp concrete.

Her hands flew out to steady herself, but the portfolio slipped from her grasp and hit the ground hard. The clasps came undone, and dozens of drawings, sketches, and paintings spilled out across the wet pavement, fluttering everywhere like leaves caught in the breeze. She stopped, putting her hands to her mouth in shock and distress.

Before she could even kneel down to start picking them up, a boy wearing a bright blue hoodie ran over from across the road. “Hey, don’t worry, I’ll help you,” he called out, and immediately began gathering up the papers, sorting them into neat piles.

Ethan watched the whole thing happen exactly as described. Every detail. Every movement. Every single part of the prediction was playing out right in front of his eyes.

Point two confirmed.

He didn’t stop there. He kept walking, moving toward West Street, checking his watch constantly. He reached the junction at 3:59 PM, standing back near the bus stop so he could observe everything clearly.

The traffic was moving normally, the lights changing from green to amber to red as they always did.

Then, as the clock ticked over to 4:03 PM, the lights changed to red… and stayed there.

Normally, they would cycle through the colours every sixty seconds or so. But this time, they remained solid red. Cars began to slow down and stop, one after another, until there was a long line of vehicles stretching all the way down the road, past the shops and around the corner. Drivers began to lean out of their windows, looking up at the signal lights, shaking their heads, checking their own watches.

Ethan counted the seconds in his head.

Sixty seconds… One hundred and twenty seconds… Two hundred seconds…

Exactly four minutes and twelve seconds later, the lights flickered once, and then went back to their normal cycle, turning green and letting the traffic move again.

Point three confirmed.

By now, Ethan felt like he was moving through a dream. Everything around him was happening exactly as the device had said it would. It wasn’t just getting things right—it was getting them perfect. Time, place, people, actions… every single detail was accurate down to the very last second.

He walked further along the road until he reached the entrance to the local park. He looked at his watch. 4:19 PM. He walked through the gates and headed straight for the large old oak tree that stood near the centre of the grounds. It was huge, its branches spreading wide over the grass, and it had been there for as long as Ethan could remember.

He stood back a safe distance, watching.

The wind had picked up slightly, blowing leaves and small twigs around in small circles across the ground.

4:20… 4:21…

There was a sharp cracking sound, loud enough to cut through the noise of the wind and the distant traffic. Ethan looked up just in time to see a large, heavy branch break away from the upper part of the tree. It fell slowly at first, then faster, dropping straight down into the soft grass beneath it, landing with a heavy thud but striking nothing and no one. It lay there, broken and splintered, exactly as the phone had said it would.

Point four confirmed.

Ethan didn’t even bother to check the rest in person. He knew now. He had seen enough. He walked home quickly, his mind racing with everything he had witnessed. He went through the front door just before five o’clock, slipping quietly into the house and heading to his room, but he didn’t make it far before he heard his mother’s voice calling from the kitchen.

“Ethan? Is that you?”

“Yeah, I’m here,” he replied, stopping in the hallway.

“Good,” she said, walking out wiping her hands on her apron, a bright smile on her face. “You’ll never guess what just happened. The shop called. My manager. They’ve asked me to take on extra shifts for the next month. It’s more money, which is great, but… oh, I don’t know how I’m going to fit everything in around the housework and looking after you boys.”

Ethan just nodded. “That’s… good news, Mum. Congratulations.”

He didn’t need to ask what time the call had come. He knew exactly. 5:00 PM. Just as it had been written.

Point five confirmed.

He went up to his room and waited. Sure enough, just after six o’clock, he heard the sound of footsteps running up the stairs, and then his door burst open. Jeffrey stood there, his face red and frustrated, holding his school bag open in his hands.

“Ethan! Have you seen my pen? My red one? The special one I got for my birthday? I had it this afternoon and now it’s gone! I’ve looked everywhere and I can’t find it anywhere!”

Ethan looked at his watch. 6:15 PM. Exactly when the prediction said he would start searching.

“Did you check your books?” Ethan asked calmly.

“Of course I checked my books!” Jeffrey groaned. “I’ve checked every single thing I own! It’s gone! I can’t believe it!”

He turned and ran back to his own room, still complaining loudly. Ethan sat on his bed and waited. Twenty-two minutes later, at exactly 6:37 PM, he heard a shout of triumph from down the hall.

“I found it! It was in my Geography book! How did it even get there?!”

Point six confirmed.

Ethan reached into his pocket and pulled out the phone once more. The screen had updated again. The list of predictions he had read earlier was now marked clearly:

"Prediction 004: Confirmed – 100% Accuracy."

"Prediction 005: Confirmed – 100% Accuracy."

"Prediction 006: Confirmed – 100% Accuracy."

"Prediction 007: Confirmed – 100% Accuracy."

"Prediction 008: Confirmed – 100% Accuracy."

"All secondary data verified. No errors. No discrepancies. No chance occurrences."

And beneath that, the final words for the chapter appeared, glowing bright and steady:

"Proof complete. You have seen what no other human has ever seen. You know what no other mind has ever understood. There is no longer any need to question. There is no longer any need to wonder. It is real. It is true. And it is yours."

Ethan held the device in his hands, turning it over gently, feeling its weight, feeling the faint hum that seemed to vibrate in time with his own heartbeat.

He had gone from being the boy who was always in the dark, the boy who was always one step behind everyone else, the boy who was told he brought bad luck… to being the one who knew everything.

He had thought that having this knowledge would make him feel powerful, and in a way it did. But now, looking at the list of confirmed events, seeing the absolute perfection of it all, he realised something else.

This wasn’t just information. It wasn’t just a tool.

It was the truth. The absolute, undeniable truth.

And as he looked out of his window at the darkening sky, he realised that he wasn’t just learning about the future. He was learning that the future was something fixed, something written, something that could be read like the words on a page.

But if the future was already written… then what part did he have to play in it?

He read the last line on the screen again, and a small chill ran down his spine:

"Now that you know it is real...the testing phase begins. What will you do with what you know?"