The building was little more than rust and memory.
Elian stood outside the designated coordinates—Sector 19, Ward Theta—eyeing the crumbling façade of what used to be a commuter hub, back when the city still had real public transit. Now it was a hollowed-out shell, a husk forgotten by progress and swallowed by smog.
The job request had been vague. "Tech repair. High payout. No questions." But the message had come with a time transfer guarantee: +3.0 YRS upon completion. Enough to buy a clean lung scan, two weeks of food, and maybe even time to sleep without his heart racing at the sound of every siren.
He stepped inside.
The interior was dead quiet. The air stank of copper and ozone. Faintly, he could hear the buzz of failing power—an energy signature barely strong enough to register. Elian followed it through a dark corridor until he found the source.
A figure slumped against the wall.
Human. Male. Young.
He was clutching something close to his chest—a metallic pod the size of a plum, pulsing with a dim blue light. His other hand pressed against a gash in his side, dark with blood and something else—static. Time distortion.
Elian knelt cautiously. "I got a ping for a repair job. Was that you?"
The man didn't respond. His eyes fluttered, unfocused.
"I'm Elian. I can help. What is that—"
"Vault…" the man croaked. "Must… get it to… the Vault."
"What vault?"
The man's hand jerked up, grabbing Elian's wrist with surprising strength. His eyes suddenly locked on, blazing with urgency.
"They're storing time," he rasped. "Not deleting it. Not gone. Stolen. You have to—" He choked, blood flecking his lips. "Key. You're clean. No marker. You can use it."
"Use what?"
The man forced the pod into Elian's hand. As soon as it touched his skin, a tremor ran up Elian's arm. His vision blurred. A strange, cold numbness slid behind his eyes like something ancient waking up.
DEVICE SYNCING… TEMPORAL SIGNATURE DETECTED.
The pod's surface shifted, reconfiguring into a sleek, humming device with a translucent core.
"What the hell is this?" Elian muttered.
The man slumped, his last breath shallow and silent. His wrist display blinked once—00.0 YRS—then went dark.
Gone.
Elian looked down at the device. It pulsed with quiet light, and for the first time in years, he felt something unfamiliar.
Potential.
Then a new sound: heavy boots on concrete. Multiple.
Regulators.
Instinct took over. Elian pocketed the device and scrambled back down the corridor. A sharp voice echoed behind him: "He's here. Pulse residue's fresh!"
He ducked through a side entrance, vaulted over a cracked divider, and ran into the alley beyond. His lungs burned. His time balance burned faster.
He could almost hear it draining.
He turned a corner—and stopped cold.
Two Regulators were blocking the street ahead. Black visors. White armor. No faces. One raised a hand and activated a time anchor—a gravitational field that slowed local movement. The air thickened. His limbs felt like they were swimming through syrup.
Panicking, Elian fumbled for the device. It seemed to sense the threat, warming in his hand. Without understanding how, he pressed his thumb into the soft core.
ACTIVATING TEMPORAL BUBBLE – WARNING: LIFESPAN TRADE INITIATED
A sphere of blue light exploded outward. The world froze.
Literally.
The rain stopped mid-air. The regulators' hands hung motionless. Every molecule around him shivered in suspension—time paused, wrapped around him like glass.
Elian gasped in wonder… then staggered.
-0.6 YRS
The cost had already been deducted.
He ran through the frozen moment, out the other side of the bubble, and didn't look back until he was five blocks away. By the time the world resumed, he was gone.
Later, back in his apartment, Elian sat on the floor with the strange device resting between his knees. He watched it hum softly, casting long shadows across the cracked wall.
He'd bought himself a little time.
But someone—maybe everyone—was going to want this thing. And if what the courier said was true, he wasn't just holding a piece of illegal tech.
He was holding the truth behind the whole system.
And the countdown had just begun.