Usefulness

Anton noticed the shift in how people spoke to him.

Requests arrived framed as clarifications rather than questions. Messages assumed availability. Invitations appeared on his calendar without explanation, already marked as accepted. None of it felt hostile. If anything, the tone was courteous.

Efficient.

In the first meeting of the day, a manager introduced him without looking up from the agenda.

“Anton will help us think through the implications,” he said. “He has context.”

The word landed quietly.

The discussion moved faster than usual. When a disagreement surfaced, eyes turned toward Anton. He listened, asked for a document, skimmed it once, then summarized the situation in neutral terms. The room accepted the summary and moved on.

Afterward, Mira caught up with him in the hallway.

“They trust you,” she said.

“For what?” Anton asked.

She considered the question. “To keep things contained.”

He didn’t respond.

Later that morning, Hale requested a brief sync. The meeting lasted ten minutes. No decisions were recorded.

“We’d like you to continue offering perspective,” Hale said. “Especially when conversations risk drifting.”

“Drifting where?” Anton asked.

“Into uncertainty,” Hale replied.

Anton nodded.

In the afternoon, an escalation came through incident management. The technical cause was clear. The broader implications were uncomfortable. Anton drafted a response that focused narrowly on remediation steps and forward actions. He excluded a paragraph he would have written weeks earlier.

The incident closed quickly.

By the time he noticed the pattern, it had already repeated itself.

He was consulted before conclusions were written. He was asked to review language before it circulated. He was copied on messages meant to calm rather than inform.

Each interaction felt reasonable. Each one reduced friction.

The cost appeared elsewhere.

Tomas stopped asking him open questions. Mira routed certain discussions away from his desk. Jorel communicated through intermediaries. The quiet circle had adjusted around his new position.

Anton felt the distance without being able to name it.

Late in the day, a junior PM approached him near the elevators.

“I was told to run this by you,” she said, handing him a draft summary.

Anton read it once.

“It’s acceptable,” he said. “Just keep it high-level.”

She nodded with visible relief and walked away.

Anton remained where he was for a moment after that.

The usefulness was undeniable. So was its direction.

When he finally left the building, the sky had darkened. The city lights reflected off the pavement in long, broken lines. He walked without opening his notebook.

For the first time, Anton understood that the system did not need him to believe in it.

It needed him to function within it.

And he was doing that well.