The Probability Shift

This is the end

Kevin's fingers danced over the keyboard, his eyes bloodshot and unfocused. The makeshift lab in his apartment was a mess, reflecting the chaos in his mind. He had been at it for days, barely eating or sleeping again.

The knock on the door sounded dull over the hum of machinery and the clatter of his frantic typing. Ignoring it, Kevin continued to work, muttering equations under his breath.

The door burst open, revealing two stern-faced men in dark suits.

"Kevin Craft?" one of them asked, though it wasn't really a question.

Kevin glanced up, irritation flashing in his hazel eyes. "What do you want?"

"Dr. Craft, you're under investigation for unauthorized access to classified data and illegal activities involving UN experimental technology," the man cited, pulling out a badge. "You need to come with us."

Kevin's heart pounded in his chest. He had known this day might arrive but had pushed the thought aside, driven by his singular goal to save Vanessa. He stood up slowly, his mind racing.

"I need my research," he lamented, a note of desperation creeping into his voice. "I can't leave it."

"Your research is now property of the UN," the other man replied coldly. "You're suspended from the project effective immediately."

They led him out of his apartment, past neighbors peeking through their doors with curious eyes. Kevin felt a wave of panic rise within him; everything he had worked for was slipping away.

In a sterile interrogation room at UN headquarters, Kevin sat across from an impassive officer who leafed through a thick file.

"Dr. Craft," the officer began, "your unauthorized data breaches and illegal activities have left us no choice but to suspend you from the 'Probability Shift' project."

Kevin's mouth went dry. "You don't understand," he pleaded. "I need that data. It's crucial."

"We understand more than you think," the officer replied, leaning forward. "We know you successfully mapped the entire evening surrounding your wife's death. All with UN resources and stolen data."

"You don't understand, I can save her!" Kevin's voice cracked with emotion. "I can change what happened to Vanessa."

The officer sighed heavily, rubbing his temples. He did not enjoy tormenting a widower who was obviously losing his grip. He decided to wrap it up. "Dr. Craft, you have compromised the integrity of this project. Your access to all UN resources is permanently revoked."

Kevin slumped back in his chair, feeling an unbearable weight settle on his shoulders. Without access to the final dataset hosted on UN servers and their computing power, he was left with nothing but fragments of information and shattered dreams.

"But you're a lucky man..."

"Lucky?" burst Kevin. "I lost my wife, my light, my soul! And now you want to take it all from me? My only hope? You call that lucky!?"

The officer couldn't understand the depth of Kevin's work and what he meant. "Despite your behavior, taking into account your past services, and the grim circumstances, you won't be deferred to civilian authorities. The UN wish to keep this an internal matter. You're free to go. And on a more personal note: get help man, you can't continue like this."

Back home, Kevin spiraled deeper into despair. His apartment became a tomb of failed experiments and discarded notes. Friends and colleagues who once admired his brilliance now avoided him, their concern replaced by pity or judgment. Only Sarah insisted to reach him, but he ignored all her messages.

Desperation gnawed at him like a relentless beast as he scoured every possible avenue for resources. He had to find a way to recover the final dataset and secure the much needed computing power to sustain the simulation. He needed access to cutting-edge technology to put together his consciousness projection device.

Without the UN resources, without Vanessa to help him navigate the intricate paths of grants and private investors, he was lost. And for the first time since that horrible night... his resolve crumbled and hopelessness crept into his thoughts...