Chapter 5: Faultlines at the Core

Time: 2048
Location: Berlin, Global Innovation Center

The hum from the core grew louder, each pulse reverberating beneath their feet like the ticking of a bomb waiting to explode. Theo’s fingers glided over the control interface, locking in the coordinates Kalen provided. His throat tightened. A single misstep, and they could be hurtling deeper into chaos.

“Signal locked,” Helena announced tersely. Her knuckles were white as she gripped the edge of the console. “You’re really committing to this?”

“We don’t have a choice,” Theo said, his voice low but steady.

Kalen leaned against the wall, studying Theo with an unsettling calm. “You’re learning fast. That’s good. You’ll need that.”

Helena shot him a glare. “Are you always this cryptic, or is it just a bad habit?”

Kalen chuckled softly. “It’s more fun this way.”

Theo fought back the urge to snap. There was something maddening about Kalen—his air of smug confidence, the way he seemed so at ease in the midst of unraveling reality. It made Theo’s skin crawl, though he knew they needed him, at least for now.

“Once we isolate the anomaly in 1962,” Theo began, turning toward Helena, “we’ll use the secondary port to recalibrate the timeline and—”

Helena shook her head, interrupting him. “It’s not going to be that simple, Theo. We’re tampering with events on a scale that no simulation could prepare us for. Even small changes could snowball.”

“And not making a change isn’t an option,” Kalen added, stepping closer. “The way things stand, the timeline is already compromised. It’s a house of cards on the verge of collapse. Either we stabilize it—or it takes us all down with it.”

Theo turned back to the console. The energy core hummed louder, and for a moment, Theo felt as though it was... angry. Could it respond to us? He shook off the irrational thought. He couldn’t afford distractions, not when they were already hanging by a thread.

Helena glanced at the timer on her display. “Two minutes until signal initiation.”

Kalen took a step forward, his tone unusually serious. “One last piece of advice, Theo—this isn’t about precision. It’s about instincts. You’ll never have all the answers when you’re messing with time. Trust yourself.”

Theo stared at him, his mind turning over the words. Trust wasn’t something that came easily to him—especially not trust in himself. But there was no time to second-guess.

00:01:32 until signal initiation.

As they waited for the systems to align, the room grew eerily quiet. The tension in the air was palpable. Theo glanced at Helena. “You’ve been unusually quiet. Something on your mind?”

Helena hesitated, her eyes dark with something Theo couldn’t quite place. “I’m just thinking... about the things we lose when we play with time.” She folded her arms, her gaze distant. “You ever wonder if some events are meant to happen, no matter what we do?”

Theo shook his head. “That’s what we’re here to find out, isn’t it?”

Helena gave him a half-smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Maybe.”

Theo didn’t press her. He had learned early in their partnership that Helena carried her own ghosts—things she never spoke about, at least not directly.

Kalen leaned casually against the console, his gaze drifting between Theo and Helena. “Let me guess,” he said, his voice smooth. “Something personal? A lost opportunity? Someone you failed to save?”

Helena’s jaw clenched, but she didn’t respond.

Theo shot Kalen a warning look. “Back off.”

Kalen raised his hands in mock surrender. “Relax. I’m just making conversation.”

Helena exhaled slowly, rubbing her temples. “Let’s just get this over with.”

00:00:10 until signal initiation.

The hum from the core intensified, vibrating through the floor like an oncoming storm. Theo’s heart pounded in his chest. The countdown ticked away, and there was no turning back.

“Here we go,” Helena muttered, her voice barely audible.

00:00:00.

A pulse of energy surged through the room, warping the air around them. The core flared, and a cascade of light burst from the floor, scattering across the walls in fractal patterns. The signal locked in on the targeted moment: October 13, 1962.

Theo watched the interface, holding his breath as the data streamed in. The timeline’s integrity indicator flickered—green, then yellow, then red.

“Something’s wrong,” Helena whispered, her fingers flying over the console.

Theo leaned closer. The diagnostic readouts showed an unexpected interference—a new signal, one that hadn’t been there before.

Kalen’s eyes narrowed. “Someone’s trying to block us.”

Helena cursed under her breath. “If the interference holds, the transmission will collapse.”

Theo clenched his fists, his mind racing. What now? If they aborted the signal, they’d lose their chance to stabilize the timeline. But if they pushed forward, they risked tearing it apart entirely.

“We push through,” Theo decided, his voice firm.

Helena shot him a startled glance. “Are you insane? We could shatter everything.”

“We’ll shatter it if we don’t act,” Theo snapped. “We’re already out of time.”

Kalen’s grin returned, sharp and approving. “Now you’re thinking like a time traveler.”

Signal Transmission: Active

The room trembled as the signal forced its way through the interference. Alarms blared, and the energy core pulsed wildly, its crimson light flickering erratically. The floor seemed to shift beneath their feet, as though the entire room was tilting off balance.

Theo gripped the console, his heart hammering in his chest. “Status?”

Helena’s fingers flew over the keyboard. “Signal... partially transmitted. But there’s—” She paused, her eyes widening. “Oh no.”

Theo leaned closer. “What?”

Helena’s voice was barely above a whisper. “There’s a second transmission... from the same moment in 1962. It’s creating a temporal feedback loop.”

Theo’s blood ran cold. A feedback loop—if left unchecked—could unravel not just one timeline, but all timelines connected to it. The ripple effect would be catastrophic.

Kalen stepped forward, his expression deadly serious. “We need to shut it down. Now.”

Theo’s mind raced. If they severed the signal too soon, they could lose everything. But if they waited too long...

“Cut it,” Theo ordered.

Helena didn’t hesitate. Her hands moved in a blur, and the transmission severed with a sharp, high-pitched whine. The core dimmed, its wild pulses slowing to a steady thrum.

The alarms silenced. For a moment, the room was still.

Theo exhaled, the tension in his chest easing—just slightly. “Status?”

Helena’s hands hovered over the console, her expression grim. “The loop is contained. But the signal... it’s fractured. Only part of it made it through.”

Kalen muttered a curse under his breath. “We’re not done yet.”

Theo turned toward him. “What do you mean?”

Kalen’s gaze was cold. “The other signal—it’s still out there. And whoever sent it... they know exactly what they’re doing.”