The violet sky pulsed like a bruise above the ruined courtyard, its light casting eerie shadows on the cracked fountain where Tylor clutched the temporal stabilizer, its orb warm and faintly humming in his hands. Amaira pressed against him, her pigtails streaked with ash, her hazel eyes wide but resolute as she held the journal page she'd saved. Kayla stood close, her dark hair tangled, her green eyes haunted by the Chronarch's face—Tylor's face, older and colder, a future he refused to accept. Lila, her leg bandaged but unsteady, leaned on her rifle, while Elias scanned the alley for drones, his grizzled face taut with urgency.
"We can't stay here," Lila said, her voice rough as she limped forward. "Drones'll be back, and the Chronarch knows you've got his toy." She nodded at the stabilizer, its blue glow flickering like a heartbeat.
Tylor's throat tightened, the Chronarch's words—I built this future to save her—echoing in his mind. The weight of seeing his own face, scarred and broken, made his hands tremble. "He said he's saving Amaira," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "But he's tearing everything apart."
Kayla's hand found his, her touch steady despite the fear in her eyes. "He's not you, Tylor. Not yet." Her voice was firm, but her gaze flickered to the journal tucked under her arm, its pages holding truths about the Chronos Collective—and her mother, Sarah Vey, one of its scientists.
Amaira tugged at Tylor's sleeve, holding up the journal page. "Look," she said, her small voice cutting through the tension. She unfolded it carefully, revealing a hand-drawn map beneath the list of Collective names. "It's a path. To something called 'The Hub.'" Her finger traced a route through jagged lines—streets, ruins, a fortress marked with the Collective's spiral symbol.
Elias leaned over, his grazed arm dripping blood onto the cracked stone. "The Hub," he said, his voice low. "The Collective's old base. If the Chronarch's running things, that's where his power's rooted. That stabilizer—" he pointed at the orb in Tylor's hands—"it's tied to it."
Kayla opened the journal, flipping to a passage about the stabilizer. "It says here it can close the fractures," she read, her voice tight. "'But activation without a stable anchor risks temporal collapse—erasing the current timeline.' The Hub's the anchor." Her eyes met Tylor's, shadowed by her dreams of this broken world. "If we use it, we might fix this… or lose everything. Our home, our present, us."
Tylor's chest tightened, the memory of Amaira's disappearance two years ago—his failure to watch her—resurfacing. Losing her again, losing Kayla, was unthinkable. "Then we do it right," he said, his voice steadier than he felt. "We find the Hub, stop him."
Amaira's eyes widened, a flicker of fear breaking her resolve. "What if we disappear?" she whispered, clutching the map. "Like in the basement… when Dad hid me."
Tylor knelt, meeting her gaze. "I won't let that happen, Mai. I promise." But the promise felt fragile, the stabilizer's hum a reminder of its power—and its cost.
Kayla's voice softened, but her words carried weight. "My dreams… they're not just dreams." She hesitated, her fingers tracing the journal's edge. "They started when we found the time machine, but they're stronger here. I see the Hub, the fractures, the Chronarch. My mom—Sarah Vey—she worked with your mom, Tylor. The journal lists her experiments with fracture energy. What if I'm seeing this because I was… exposed to it, somehow?"
Tylor stared, the pieces clicking into place. "You mean you're connected to the fractures? Like, part of them?"
"I don't know," Kayla admitted, her voice trembling. "But every time I dream, it's like I'm there—inside the fractures. It's why I knew his face." She didn't say it, but the implication hung heavy: the Chronarch, future Tylor, was tied to her visions too.
Lila interrupted, her voice sharp. "Figure out your family drama later. Drones are closing in." The hum grew louder, red eyes glinting at the alley's end. Elias grabbed a pipe, his eyes fierce. "We move now, or we're done."
Amaira folded the map, slipping it into her pocket with a determination that made Tylor's heart ache. "We'll find the Hub," she said, her voice small but fierce. "For Mom."
As they ran, weaving through rubble-strewn streets, the stabilizer's glow cast faint light on their path. Tylor's mind raced—his mother's secrets, Kayla's dreams, the Chronarch's face. The Hub was their only hope, but the cost of using the stabilizer loomed like the violet sky above, threatening to unravel everything they'd fought for. With Amaira's hand in his and Kayla's resolve beside him, Tylor clung to one truth: he'd face his future self, whatever it took, to keep his family whole.