Archive of the Stolen Future
By Maryanne Njoki Ndirangu – May 2025
Arielle sat in the corner of the dimly lit chamber, knees drawn to her chest, her jacket still damp from the rain and pursuit. The walls around her pulsed faintly—like they were breathing. Machinery hummed below the floorboards in soft rhythms, deeper than she could feel but steady enough to know they were ancient.
Across from her, Kael flipped through a metallic codex the size of a tablet, his fingers tapping gently on its circular interface. Symbols shifted across the surface—none she could recognize, but they stirred something in her bones, like half-forgotten lullabies.
He hadn't spoken much since they'd escaped. Now, with their backs against the underworld of the city, silence hung between them—thick, wary, unresolved.
Arielle broke it. "You knew my mother."
Kael didn't look up. "I did. Long before she changed her name. Long before she hid the Archive."
She leaned forward. "What do you mean hid the Archive? And how did this—" she held up the cracked relic, still ticking faintly— "get into her grave if she was trying to keep it safe?"
Kael finally met her eyes. His gaze was unreadable, but something flickered there—regret, maybe. Or guilt.
"She left it behind to protect you," he said. "To delay what's already begun. You weren't supposed to find it yet. But time's unraveling faster than any of us predicted."
Arielle stared at the relic. "What is it?"
Kael stood and crossed the room, taking the device gently from her hand. "It's a key, yes. But not just to a place."
He tapped the cracked glass. It glowed, casting shifting shadows on his face.
"It opens memory. History. Possibilities that were erased."
She swallowed. "Are you saying… this thing can bring back the past?"
"No," Kael said. "Worse. It can show you the future that was stolen."
Arielle's breath caught.
"Stolen?"
Kael nodded, voice low. "The future isn't just a road we travel. It's a blueprint—one that's rewritten, restructured, overwritten by those who hold the Archive. Every time someone powerful enough changes something, another potential future vanishes."
She shook her head. "You're talking like time is… editable."
"It is. And someone's been editing it. Brutally. Entire outcomes—entire lives—wiped clean. Your mother tried to stop them."
Arielle stood, fists clenched. "Why didn't she tell me? She kept everything from me—"
"She was trying to keep you alive," Kael cut in. "The Vanguard already killed her once."
That stopped her cold. "What?"
Kael's voice softened. "Your mother lived two timelines. The one you knew—and the one before that."
Arielle felt the ground sway under her feet.
She'd always known her mother was secretive. Always looking over her shoulder. Always changing names, moving cities. But she'd called it caution. Trauma from a war-torn youth. Nothing more.
But now it seemed that wasn't the full story.
Not even close.
---
Later that night, Kael opened a narrow panel in the back of the chamber. Behind it was a tight hallway of copper pipes and broken surveillance units. He led her through the darkness, only the relic's faint light to guide them.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
"To a memory chamber," he replied. "One of the last."
He stopped at a thick steel door. Pressing his palm to the panel, a sharp hiss echoed, and the door creaked open. Inside, a circular room awaited. Smooth metal walls, curved ceiling, and in the center, a platform ringed with translucent glass.
"This is where echoes live," Kael said. "Fragments of erased timelines. Lost futures."
Arielle stepped onto the platform, heart thundering.
"What do I do?"
"Hold the relic. Think of your mother."
She did.
The chamber stirred.
The walls flickered with blurred images—faint outlines of people, cities on fire, stars blinking out, children laughing, soldiers falling through broken skylines. A woman stepped forward—young, fierce-eyed, her hair flying in the wind.
Arielle gasped.
"Mom...?"
The projection didn't speak, only raised her hand and pointed—toward a tall obelisk suspended in the void of shifting time.
Kael's voice was a whisper now.
"The Archive. That's where the master record lies. And where the Vanguard has hidden what they've done."
The vision faded.
The platform fell still.
Arielle looked up at Kael.
"I need to go there."
Kael didn't argue.
He only said: "Then we'll need help."
---
As dawn crept back over New Carthage, Arielle stood on a rooftop beside Kael, the city sprawling out below them in grids of glass and shadow.
For the first time, she saw it differently.
Not just as home.
But as something stolen.
Something false.
Something that needed rewriting.
She didn't know how yet. Or who else was out there.
But she knew one thing.
She wasn't going back to her old life.
Not until the truth was found.
Not until her mother's death made sense.
Not until time itself remembered what had been lost.
---