It has long been the holy grail of various sciences to predict the future. Every conceivable method of foresight has been explored: Abacomancy, lots, haruspicy, ariolation, radiesthesia, runecasting, scrying, and so on. Indeed, one can throw darts to a dictionary and assume some sort of divination uses the entry hit (Metaphorical darts, of course. Throwing actual darts at a dictionary would be rather weird and very wasteful).
In the same way that most things can be used to attempt a glimpse of the future, most things will fail at doing so. Specifically, all but one will thoroughly fail.
The exception is, rather reasonably, the 6th floor apartment of a somewhat run-down apartment building in Marseille. This apartment, though it may seem like a studio available for an exorbitant price at first, actually leads to an archive with a surface of about seventy-octillion square miles, with ninety-decillion drawers, each with eleven-thousand folders, each with thirteen hundred documents, with fourteen articles per document, and fifteen items per article.
This is, quite obviously, the realm of possibility: Every result of every decision is found here, among the uncountable archives. It must be clarified, however, that something being a possibility is very much different from being a certainty.
It’s due to this that the Realm is littered with archivists of every kind and quality, who scour the drawers for files that properly describe the happenings of the universe. Two groups have formed thus: The Predictivists, and the Proceduralists. The former employ methods of conjecture and projection, observing known correct files to predict where and how the unknown ones will appear. The latter take on a more brute-force approach, checking each and every file and simply declaring which ones are correct in hindsight.
An alternate name for these are Pythialics and Cassandrians, after their foundrs. It should be noted, of course, that neither of those founders has yet been born; but the documentation seems quite clear that they’ll appear eventually and everyone will find them rather pleasant to be around.
There is, of course, a third group: An unnamed and unbothered ones who simply peruse documents at their leisure, who find themselves playing contrarians to the papers by acting precisely opposite to anything they read: Lovers have separated due to the possibility of marriage, daughters have denounced uncles after reading about the imaginable case of being adopted after a tragic orphaning, and many other such things.
These are the most revered, as they care the least about having found a place that collects all possible fates of their lives.
But of course, the most entrancing and wonderful thing about the Realm of Possibility is, as could never be denied, the quite good pastries available at the building next door.