Chapter 2: The Butterfly Effect Begins

Time: 2048
Location: Berlin, Global Innovation Center

The room buzzed with tension as Theo stared at the holographic warning blinking on the central display. The cheers from moments ago had died abruptly, replaced by a heavy silence. Engineers exchanged bewildered looks, trying to make sense of the unexpected temporal collision. Theo’s jaw clenched as he scanned the flood of red diagnostic alerts streaming across the interface.

"How could this happen?" Helena asked, her voice razor-sharp but laced with disbelief.

Theo’s mind raced, working through the possibilities. “Theoretically... it shouldn’t be possible.” He flicked through the error logs, his smart lenses projecting streams of data across his vision. “All outgoing signals were secured—no one else had access.”

Selene folded her arms, standing slightly apart from the group. Her eyes—sharp and calculating—didn’t leave Theo. “Except someone did. And now, your signal never reached 1914.”

Theo exhaled sharply, feeling the crushing weight of responsibility settle on his shoulders. “What do we know so far?”

Helena’s fingers danced across her own interface. “The primary signal was sent... but it collided with a secondary signal. It’s as if two transmissions were aiming for the same target, but from opposite directions in time.” Her eyes narrowed. “This should’ve been impossible.”

Theo paced near the energy core. It pulsed with faint violet light beneath the floor, stable yet ominous, as if it held secrets even its creators couldn’t grasp.

04:37 since failed transmission. No noticeable changes had occurred in the present timeline yet, but Theo knew better than to trust appearances. Temporal shifts could take minutes—or weeks—before their consequences unfolded.

Selene tapped the side of her watch, accessing a private stream of information. “There’s something you both need to see,” she said, gesturing toward the projection board.

A live feed flickered into view, displaying the latest reports from across the globe: strange disruptions, isolated riots, and unexplained power failures spreading like wildfire through key cities. Theo’s stomach tightened. This wasn’t part of the plan.

“This...” Theo trailed off, struggling to piece together what they were seeing. “This doesn’t make sense. None of this was predicted.”

Helena leaned closer, her brow furrowing. “These events—they’re not random.” She highlighted specific incidents: an explosion at a research facility in Tokyo, civil unrest in Rome, an assassination attempt in Istanbul. “Look at the pattern. This is organized.”

Selene’s expression darkened. “We triggered it. Whatever we tried to change in 1914, something... or someone... is responding.”

Helena inhaled sharply. “A temporal backlash.”

“Backlash?” Theo repeated, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “We stopped one assassination—how could that ripple into something like this?”

Selene spoke calmly, though her words carried a sense of urgency. “The timeline doesn’t like to be tampered with. When you change one thing, the consequences fan out. It’s called the Butterfly Effect.”

Theo pinched the bridge of his nose. “I know the theory. But this... this is something else. It’s like...” He paused, searching for the right words. “It’s like the timeline is actively resisting us.”

Silence fell over the room.

Helena, never one to entertain superstition, scoffed. “Timelines aren’t conscious, Theo. They can’t resist.”

“Can’t they?” Selene’s voice was low, but her gaze burned with certainty. “The past is full of fault lines. Change one event too drastically, and it’s like poking a sleeping giant. You can’t always predict which way it’ll lash out.”

Theo crossed his arms, frustration evident. "We need to know exactly what changed—how much of history was disrupted."

Helena frowned, already typing furiously on her console. “We won’t know unless we try another transmission.”

Theo shook his head firmly. "No. Not yet. We don’t know what we’re dealing with."

Selene arched an eyebrow. "Then what’s the plan, Theo? Sit here and wait for the timeline to tear itself apart?"

Theo ignored the jab, focusing on the streams of data flowing through his lenses. Diagnostics incomplete... His mind raced, flipping through options.

“We need to map the shifts,” he said finally. “Every deviation—big or small. We’ll compare the old timeline with the one we have now and isolate what went wrong.”

Helena didn’t look convinced. “That could take hours, if not days.”

“Then we better start,” Theo replied without missing a beat.

Selene gave him a curious look, as if seeing him in a new light. “You’re quick under pressure,” she said quietly.

Theo didn’t respond, his attention locked on the interface. But inwardly, he knew her words mattered—whether he wanted them to or not.

02:12 since diagnostic analysis began.

The room buzzed with quiet efficiency. Engineers worked at their stations, trying to piece together the remnants of a timeline that shouldn’t have existed. Helena focused on mapping the most drastic changes, while Selene leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching Theo like a hawk.

“What was your original goal, Theo?” Selene asked suddenly.

He blinked, surprised by the question. “You know the goal. Prevent the assassination, stop World War I.”

Selene shook her head slowly. “That’s the official story. But you—what did you hope to gain from all this?”

Theo faltered. “I... I wanted to make the world better.”

Selene’s gaze softened, but only slightly. “That’s noble. But changing history isn’t about what you want—it’s about what history allows.”

Theo glanced at her, confused. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Selene said slowly, “there are rules to this game. And the first rule is this: You don’t always get the future you plan for.”

Helena cleared her throat, interrupting the moment. “We have something.” She tapped the display, bringing up a detailed map of shifting events.

Theo leaned closer. The map was a chaotic swirl of events—wars fought in the wrong decades, alliances that had never existed, technological breakthroughs that happened too soon or too late. It was as if history had reshuffled itself in response to their interference.

“This...” Theo whispered, horror dawning on him. “This is worse than we thought.”

Selene gave him a grim smile. “Welcome to the Butterfly Effect.”

Theo clenched his fists. “So how do we fix it?”

Helena’s expression darkened. “There’s only one way to fix a broken timeline: We have to find the exact moment things went off track. And that means sending another signal.”

Theo felt the weight of the decision pressing down on him. Sending another transmission could stabilize the timeline—or it could break it even further.

He exhaled slowly. “Alright,” he said at last. “We send another signal. But this time... we play it smarter.”