Just possibilities.… The first thing the analyst learned in 2026 was this: information no longer traveled—it multiplied. The operations room had no windows. Screens filled the walls, streaming fragments of war: drone footage, satellite images, viral posts, “eyewitness” clips. Somewhere in that noise was the truth about a bombing that may—or may not—have happened. Aiko wasn’t trying to find facts. She was trying to decide which facts deserved to exist. Her supervisor tapped the glass. “Another one is trending. Graveyard image. Supposedly from southern Iran.” Aiko didn’t react. She had seen this pattern before. In the modern infodemic—a phenomenon where accurate and false information spread together like a virus—truth didn’t disappear. It drowned. ⸻ She pulled the image up. Rows of small graves. Flowers. Dust. Too perfect. Too symmetrical. “Fake?” someone asked. “Maybe,” she said. “Maybe not.” That was the problem. Just...