The hum of neon signs echoed faintly in the narrow alley as Ezra trudged through the morning haze, his thoughts louder than the muffled footsteps behind him. The world hadn't changed overnight, but something inside him had. The absence of his timer wasn't just a missing piece—it was a broken law of nature. He felt like a ghost drifting through a world tethered to rules he no longer followed.
School was different that day. Not visibly—students still lined the halls, screens still flickered with automated lessons—but underneath, a quiet dread pulsed. Ezra caught glances. Not just at him, but at each other. Something was spreading—he could feel it. Wordless unease lingered in the corridors. It wasn't paranoia. Not entirely. It was as if others could sense it too—the presence of something inexplicable.
Ezra didn't know what he expected when he saw Mia again. Relief? Answers? Instead, he found her sitting alone in the old library annex, scrolling through archived networks with a grim focus. The building was rarely used, its shelves layered in dust, its lights flickering like they too had been forgotten by time.
You came she said without looking up.
You left me a note
She slid a small tablet across the table. I traced some of the timer tech—open source layers that were integrated years ago. There is something strange buried in the update logs.
Ezra skimmed the lines. What is the ChronoNet Protocol
Exactly. No public documentation and yet every timer runs on it. It is a shadow layer. Untraceable except through backdoor logs.
Are you saying the timers are connected to a hidden network
Mia looked up. More like governed by one
He leaned back, processing. Why haven't people noticed
Because most people don't lose theirs
Ezra glanced at his bare wrist. The skin was smooth. The absence still felt like a phantom pain.
Mia folded her hands. You are not the only one. I found forums—hidden ones. People whispering about disappearing timers. Most get shut down. Some users go dark
Dark
Deleted. Vanished
Ezra's pulse quickened. Like… actually gone
I tracked one of the usernames to a location. I want to check it out. I need someone to come with me
Ezra didn't hesitate. I am in
They left after class, slipping through city transit tunnels that buzzed with electric current and old graffiti. The address led to an abandoned district—once a hub of biotech development, now a silent relic. Vines crawled up the sides of old towers and drones hovered overhead like indifferent sentinels.
The apartment complex was a concrete monolith. The elevator didn't work so they climbed twelve flights in silence. Ezra kept his hand close to the multitool clipped to his belt.
Room 1207 was unlocked. The air inside was still, untouched. Ezra stepped cautiously inside. Dust motes danced in the sunbeams cutting through cracked blinds. A desk sat in the corner, its screen blinking on proximity.
Mia moved quickly, fingers flying across the interface. This is her rig
The screen came alive with threads of data—logs, recordings, encrypted messages. A name blinked on the header: Veda Lyre
Mia clicked a message.
If you are seeing this I have probably been taken. Or erased. The system does not allow anomalies. If your timer is gone you have been marked. They will come for you. Hide. Fight. Or find the Origin
Ezra froze. The Origin
That is all she left Mia's voice was tight
A whir from the hallway froze them both.
Ezra killed the lights. They crouched behind the desk as footsteps echoed outside the door. Slow. Deliberate.
Ezra's breath caught as the handle turned. Mia pulled out a small signal jammer and activated it. The door creaked open. A tall figure stepped inside. Not a person—a drone in humanoid armor, its face a blank screen pulsing with static.
Ezra grabbed a paperweight and flung it across the room. The drone turned. That was enough. They bolted, charging down the hallway, heartbeats racing in sync.
They didn't stop until they hit the alley two blocks away. Ezra doubled over, gasping.
They sent a retrieval unit Mia panted. For a dead user
Ezra stared into the distance. Or for us
They didn't speak much after that. Mia walked him home. They said nothing about school or parents or the illusion of normal life. The world they had stepped into didn't leave room for such things.
That night, Ezra sat in his room, staring at his reflection. He lifted his wrist, imagining the blue numbers that used to tick there. The timer wasn't just a clock. It was control. Without it, he was outside the system. Invisible. Or worse—exposed.
He opened a private terminal and created a folder titled Veda Project. He uploaded every file Mia had copied. Then he began his own log.
Subject Ezra Vance Anomaly Detected Timer Removal Current Status Unknown Objective Find the Origin
The cursor blinked at the end of the line like a pulse.
He knew one thing this wasn't just about lost time. It was about who controlled it—and what they feared.
Ezra didn't sleep. Not really. He tossed in bed, visions of drones and static-faced enforcers haunting his half-conscious mind. Sometime around dawn, he rose, wrapped in a blanket, and watched the city from his window.
Lights blinked like nervous heartbeats. Drones zipped overhead and pedestrians passed like ghosts. Somewhere down there a system kept ticking. And he was no longer part of it.
By midday, he was back at the library annex with Mia. She was already buried in her screen again.
I decrypted more of Veda's logs she said, her voice clipped with adrenaline. You need to see this
The log showed a map—zoomed out from their city to what looked like a hidden section beyond the city's classified districts.
There is a facility here Mia said. Codenamed Origin Node. Veda mentioned it once. It is not listed on any government registry
Ezra leaned in. What is it
Mia shook her head. I don't know. But it is where the timers were first activated. At least the very first generation. The rest spread from there like a neural net
She paused.
Ezra… what if this is not just technology
What do you mean
I mean, what if this is biological Neural syncing. Hive structures. If timers are embedded and synced through a network, and they have been syncing people for decades… what does that mean for free will
Ezra sat down, overwhelmed. You think people are being controlled
I think people are being trained to control themselves—via time. The timer is not just counting down to death. It is regulating behavior. Rewarding conformity. Punishing deviation
Ezra exhaled sharply. And people without timers
Statistically erased Mia said. Or repurposed. If they are lucky
The screen flashed again. A video file began to play—grainy footage of a lab. Scientists in white suits. A tank filled with dark liquid. Suspended within, a figure. Human-like. Motionless.
A whisper echoed in the audio Subject Omega online… Timer sync failure… anomaly expanding
Ezra felt ice crawl through his veins.
That is not a clone he said.
No Mia said, lowering her voice. That is something else. Something created when the timer broke
They stared in silence.
Outside, the sky darkened. But a storm was already brewing far closer.