Chapter 7: Crossroads of History

Time: 2048
Location: Berlin, Global Innovation Center

The hum of the core was a constant reminder that they were meddling with forces beyond comprehension. Theo’s hands were steady on the console, but his mind was a storm of thoughts. The decoy signal was out, the real transmission was sent—yet the weight on his chest hadn’t lifted.

"We should’ve seen changes by now," Theo muttered, staring at the shifting diagnostics. "Why isn’t anything happening?"

Helena leaned closer to the screen, her brow furrowed. "Temporal shifts take time to cascade across events. It could be seconds… or days."

Kalen, standing by the glass partition, chuckled under his breath. "Or maybe the timeline just likes keeping you on edge."

Theo shot him a glance. "You have a strange sense of humor for someone who claims the world is on the verge of collapse."

Kalen shrugged. "A sense of humor is all you have when everything goes to hell."

Theo wasn’t in the mood for jokes. "Focus, Kalen. If this works, we need to monitor every variable in case there’s backlash."

"Assuming it did work," Helena added quietly, her voice tinged with doubt.

Diagnostics: 33% complete. No temporal shifts detected.

The silence in the room was suffocating. Theo drummed his fingers against the edge of the console, each passing second gnawing at his nerves. The absence of change felt like a ticking bomb they couldn’t see.

"What if nothing changes?" Helena whispered, more to herself than anyone else. "What if all we did was make things worse?"

Theo clenched his jaw. "We didn’t send a signal to 1962 just to sit here and doubt ourselves."

Kalen gave him a lazy smile. "That’s the spirit. Blind confidence—that’s what got us here in the first place, isn’t it?"

Helena rolled her eyes. "Do you have anything useful to say, or are you just here to be irritating?"

Kalen raised his hands in mock surrender. "Relax. I’m just saying, the longer we wait, the more time the future has to react." His smile faded. "And trust me—they will react."

Theo tried not to let the fear settle in. "If there’s a reaction, we’ll deal with it."

Helena folded her arms. "You say that like it’s going to be simple."

"It won’t be," Theo admitted. "But we don’t have a choice. We’re past the point of no return."

13:11 since transmission to 1962.

The console beeped—a sharp, insistent tone that made Theo’s heart skip a beat. He leaned forward, scanning the incoming data. "Something’s happening," he whispered.

Helena’s eyes flicked to her own screen. "We’re picking up shifts—minor ones. Localized events first, then broader impacts. It’s starting."

The display filled with data: fluctuations in historical records, subtle shifts in political alignments, small changes that could cascade into larger consequences. Theo’s breath hitched. It’s working.

But the relief was short-lived. A new alert flashed across the console:

"Warning: Temporal Displacement Detected."

Theo’s stomach dropped. "What the hell is that?"

Helena’s fingers flew over the keys. "It’s... it’s a displacement anomaly. The signal didn’t just alter events—it created a divergence. Two realities are overlapping."

Kalen straightened, his relaxed demeanor evaporating. "That’s not good."

Theo’s pulse quickened. "What does it mean?"

"It means," Helena said grimly, "we didn’t just change history—we fractured it. Now both outcomes are trying to exist at the same time."

Temporal Displacement: Active. Divergence expanding.

The screens flickered, showing conflicting data streams—wars that both happened and didn’t happen, leaders who rose and fell simultaneously. Theo’s mind reeled as the implications sank in.

"We need to stabilize this," Helena said urgently. "If the displacement grows, the timeline could implode."

Kalen gave a low whistle. "Imploding timelines... that’s a new one."

"Not the time, Kalen," Theo snapped, his mind racing for solutions. "What can we do to stop the displacement?"

Helena didn’t look up from her screen. "We need to isolate one of the outcomes—choose which reality to anchor—and sever the other."

Theo’s chest tightened. "We’re supposed to choose which version of history survives?"

"Unless you have a better idea," Helena shot back, her tone clipped.

Kalen’s smile was gone, replaced by a grim expression. "This is where things get interesting. Choose wrong, and you might end up with a reality worse than the one you were trying to fix."

Theo rubbed his temples, trying to ignore the pounding in his head. The choice before them was impossible—deciding which history would live and which would be erased.

"Do we have any way to predict which outcome is better?" Theo asked quietly.

Helena shook her head. "No. It’s a coin flip. We can only see the immediate differences—nothing beyond that."

Theo exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of the decision settle on his shoulders. We’re playing gods without knowing the rules.

Divergence: 89% stability. Collapse imminent.

"We have to choose," Helena whispered. "Now."

Theo stared at the flickering data streams, his mind racing. Do we anchor the world we tried to create? Or do we keep the one we already know?

Kalen’s voice was low, almost gentle. "Whatever you decide, Theo—make peace with it. There’s no going back."

Theo’s hand hovered over the console, every nerve in his body screaming against the decision he had to make. Time itself seemed to pause, waiting for him to act.

With a deep breath, Theo made his choice.

Anchor Signal Sent. Stabilization in Progress.

The energy core pulsed, sending a wave of light through the room. Theo held his breath as the conflicting data streams began to align. The divergence shrank, collapsing into a single timeline. The air felt heavy, as though the universe itself was exhaling.

Theo glanced at Helena. "Did it work?"

Helena checked the diagnostics, her expression guarded. "We’ve stabilized the timeline. For now."

Kalen’s grin returned, sharp and knowing. "Well done, kid. Now let’s see what kind of world you’ve created."

Theo’s heart pounded as he turned back to the console. The screen displayed the new historical record—subtly different from the one they knew, but close enough to seem familiar.

But as Theo scanned the data, a cold realization settled over him. Something’s wrong.

Helena saw it too, her face pale. "Theo... there’s still interference. A new signal just came through."

Kalen’s eyes gleamed with dark amusement. "Told you. The future always fights back."

Theo stared at the screen, dread coiling in his chest. The signal wasn’t from 2089 this time.

It was coming from the present.