The mirror flickered again. "Low power," it warned in a neutral voice.
Muna waved it off with a damp hand. 8:14. She stared at the time like she could argue with it. Today was not the day to be late. Promotion nominations were at ten, and her manager had already hinted she was "in the running." Not a guarantee, just a quiet suggestion. One she'd clung to all week.
She hadn't finished the prototype report. Hell, she wasn't even sure it compiled right.
"You're late again," the kitchen unit chirped as she passed. It had learned sarcasm last month. Now every appliance had opinions. The coffee machine blinked red: BEANS EMPTY.
"So am I," she muttered.
She rushed to get ready. Wrinkled blouse. Loose heel strap. No time. Her badge was buried somewhere under receipts and half-eaten protein bars in her bag.
The AI Integration Task Force was absorbing entire departments. The top engineers said no one was being replaced—just "repositioned."
But the quietest desk clusters kept getting quieter.
And the elevator AI started greeting people by name less often.
Muna ran.
"Good morning," she said, breathless, walking into the conference room.
"Muna," her boss called. "You're... on time."
A wave of relief passed through her. After the meeting, she returned to her desk, spinning absently in her chair. The skyline outside looked unreal: neon signs, skybridges, floating drones. It was just 2046, but it felt like the next century.
Then: a sound. A blue flash.
A girl appeared. Blonde hair. Cerulean eyes. Freckles. Covered in mild soot.
She was muttering something to herself.
"MOM."
"Mom?!" Muna looked perplexed. The girl moved swiftly towards her without saying anything else and hugged her. "Are you—"
"No time to explain," she said, putting her hand in her pocket. "This gives the secret to this…" she looked disgusted, "…place."
"I don't understand," Muna said, opening her palm.
"Mom?" her eyes got all teary as she handed Muna a pendant. "Save us." At that moment, an expanse of dark cloud surrounded her in a form of black and cobalt. It engulfed her, and she disappeared. Muna just stood there, looking bewildered.
"Now what the hell was that?" She looked at the pendant once more. "I'm not about to muckrake a company that took me years to get to where I am," she thought. She quickly remembered "Mom." "That shouldn't even be possible," she muttered to herself, walking back to her seat. "Never been pregnant as far as I can remember." She quickly pushed away the thought that a 15-year-old just appeared in her office and remembered the meeting. Documenting, filing paperwork, and whatnot, her day was over.
"Thank God it's Friday," she said, about to leave work. She saw her boss.
"Muna," he smiled, but she had a bad feeling about that.
"Sir," she kept a minimal distance. "I was just g—"
"Can you come to my office a bit?" he said, lowering his smile. She followed him. "Close the door," he said, pulling out his seat. Muna observed the carmine furniture, the leather couch that felt like it was changed yesterday, the hovering lamp. It probably used Limca, one of the rarest minerals on Earth, found when an asteroid landed on Earth. It's not like it's rare; they just purposely limited the supply for it to look that way. "You must be wondering why I called you here," he said.
Not really, she thought. Probably the meeting.
"Okay," he began, "You haven't really been," he took a little pause, allowing the silence to sink in. "A bright employee."
"I know, sir, I ju—"
"You know?" he said. She looked at his blonde hair and brown facial hair which matched his eyes. He was probably in his forties. "Then why do you believe you should get the promotion?"
"I—" she believed she had a chance.
"Take this," he didn't let her speak as he handed her an envelope, sealed conspicuously.
"You're firing me?" she said, with a heady feeling of fear and shock.
"Open it when you get home. You're free to go."
There was something incredibly wrong about the letter. Muna could feel it when she got home. She pulled out the envelope slip and pulled out the letter. It was neatly folded. She read, Dear Munachimso, You haven't really been an excellent worker, so I'm going to lay it straight to you. If you really want that promotion, meet me at my house on Saturday. Feel free to choose the time you want to come. Be prepared for anything. Yours sincerely, Your boss.
"What?" she said, slamming the letter on the table. "Muna," she called out to her AI, whom she named after her. "Read meaning into this letter."
"It's clear he wants to fuck you."
"I clearly should just remove your humor level." It said nothing. Muna sighed and sat on the couch, tossing her handbag like she wasn't ever going to use it again.
"Why do you even want this promotion?" the AI asked.
"Personal reasons," she replied, standing up. "I'm going to take a shower."
Muna stepped into the shower, the heat from the water instantly raising goosebumps on her skin. She flinched as the scalding spray hit her back, a jolt of pain that was strangely welcome, a distraction from the churning in her stomach. The steam billowed around her, turning the small bathroom into a hazy, dreamlike space. The scent of almond filled the air, a cheap brand she'd bought on sale. She hated the smell; it was the same one her mother used.
A distant dream flodded her mind. The sound of her mother's frantic, hushed conversation on the phone with a power company representative. The way her mother's hands had trembled as she hung up the phone, the knuckles white with stress. Muna had been a child then, and she hadn't understood. All she knew was that the lights went out that night, and the silence was colder than the dark.
A new voice cut through the memory.
"Personal reasons? That's what you're going with? Is that really what you're telling yourself?" the AI said, there was no humour in its speech.
"It's true," she muttered, the sound muffled by the water. "I have to do this. I can't be like her."
"She wasn't a failure, she did her best."
"Her best wasn't enough," Muna's voice cracked. "And it won't be enough for me, either. This promotion… it's my chance. It's the difference between having my own life and a life dictated by bills I can't pay."
"And you think going to his house... this is the only way?" the AI's question lingered on her mind painfully. She closed her eyes and saw the crumpled letter, the image of the boss ad her trembling hands. She made her decision.
After a full night of contemplation, Muna decided to visit his house. Before she knocked, her gaze drew to the garden. Every blade of grass was a uniform green, every bush meticulously shaped, every flower perfectly in place.
"It's definitely not human work," she said, knocking. After fifteen seconds, a voice said,
"You came," then the door opened. As she stepped in, a synth voice spoke, "Welcome Muna, we've been expecting you."
"Shut up, Gray," her boss said.
"Look, sir—"
"Call me Jim," he interrupted, then took a brief pause. "So what were you going to say?" he said, coming closer.
"Let's get this over with," she said, pulling off her shoe.
The next day was Sunday, and she felt too guilty to go to church. She stayed at home doing literally nothing—except replaying the sex over and over again. She couldn't eat, she couldn't think straight, just overwhemed with disgust .
Monday finally came, and she got the promotion. Her coworkers, whom she never talked to, were looking at her with nothing but hatred—they must be wondering how someone like her got the promotion.
***
A few weeks later, she realized she was pregnant. She couldn't really concentrate while working. She met her boss in his office.
"I'm pregnant," she said without delay as she walked into his office.
"Hope it isn't mine?" he said lazily as he wrote something down. "Of course it is," she said, clearly infuriated.
"What are you waiting for? " he said, dropping his pen. "Procreation is very unnecessary. The world I'll create won't need—"
"Create?"
"Forget it, theb point is, why even keep the baby? You can just—"
"No! This child is mine," she said. "I don't care if you want no part in it." He stood up, said nothing, and walked out. She decided to sit down. She glanced at his computer and saw an encrypted folder: TOP SECRET. She then glanced at the note he was writing before he left. Systematic War Domination with AI throu— Footsteps were coming, and she swiftly acted like she was bowing on his table.
"Get off my table," he said calmly. "You wanted a leave, right? Here," he brought out a stack of cash. "Take this."
"I'm not collecting your filthy money," was all she wanted to say, but it was a stack of hundred-dollar bills. She snatched it, kissed her teeth, and was on her way. "Shit!" realization set in. "I could've snapped that sheet."
***
A couple months later, she gave birth.
Octavia had dark hair, brown eyes and mild freckles on her cheek, which you would only notice if you got closer. She had pouty cheeks and she was beautiful. She was a bright student, some would call her a genius, and when she turned 12, she started working on something bizarre.
"Hey," Muna knocked on her room before she turned the doorknob. What followed were different rattling sounds like something was being hidden. "What are you hiding now?" Muna said with a half-smile.
"Nothing," Octavia said, putting on a fake smile.
She always hid anything tech-related from her mother. In 2060, during fall, she burned down their garage. During the winter of 2059, she almost burned down her house. In 2060, for a science project in summer school, she wreaked havoc on the entire school, leaving her suspended for a month. It could've been more, but Muna begged, and Octavia had good grades.
"Yeah right," Muna said, her face now deadpan. "Go brush your teeth. You can't be late for school."
Her hair is black, Muna thought. "She's different from both of us," she said, smiling.
Muna never let her boss see her child—or their child, rather. When she first had the baby, she was all like, "How could he put this thing inside me?" Now she's all, "This is the best thing that has ever happened to me."
Octavia was different from others; she doesn't socialize, if anything she hates people. Her mom was all she had, maybe it had something to do with her not growing up with a father.
***
Two years later, a day before Octavia's sixteenth birthday, she almost perfected it. She stepped back a bit, her fingers smudged in graphite and oil. The machine made a humming tone in front of her.
"People think time is a line; it's not," she muttered to herself, adjusting some wires. "It's messy, it's knotted tight, and it's definitely anything but a line." She stared at the polished steel panel in front of her. "The repurposed quantum coils are in order… Muna?"
"Yes?" the AI replied.
"Tell me? What's missing?" she said, biting her nails.
"You seem to be looking at it wrongly," it said, scanning her machine with a spectre-scanner. "Yes, you've applied empirical logic and theoretical physics, but you need to look at the preternatural order of what you're trying to create."
She sat there looking at her device, a black MRI frame altered into a temporal stabilizer, a gutted oscilloscope blinking with lambent signals, and a thick circular platform etched with hand-drawn equations that only Octavia could understand. "Yes!" she sprung up from the floor she was sitting on.
"Oh my God, it's been here all this time. I'll need a core chamber, something with chronotronic energy, before adjusting the capacitor."
"Exactly," the AI said. "But if I may ask, what's the purpose of this? To win a Nobel Prize? To see the future? What exactly?"
"Everyone is chasing the future like it's a prize…" she said condescendingly, "but the past is what holds us hostage. I'm going back to set things right."
"Even if it means you may bring about causality, which could lead you to not exist?" "As long as I set the course of history correctly," Octavia said as she heard a knock on the door.
"Hey, you need to go to bed," Muna said from the door. "Tomorrow's your big day."
"I know, Mum," Octavia said, now waiting for receding footsteps. The next ten minutes, she asked the AI, "Where the hell am I supposed to get something with chronotronic energy?!"
The AI took a brief pause, like it was scanning the entire world. It made a trilling sound, "Ever heard of Limca?"
"Yeah," she said, her face still full of anxiety as she continued to ponder. "Asteroid mineral."
"Refined asteroid mineral," it began. "If you were to somehow synthesize it with this Limca, under momentarily anchored gravity, it should give you a stable cor—"
"Wait, wait, wait, slow down," she said, kissing her teeth. "That's almost impossible. First, Limca is almost a million dollars, and unanchored gravity," she scoffed. "I'm just going to sleep it off. Goodnight, Muna," she said, staring at her roof as she lay down on her bed.
The next day finally came; she had been anticipating it for a while. Her 16th birthday. Her mother told her she'd grant any of her requests within her power.
"Mom," she said, coming down the stairs.
"Birthday Girl!" she exclaimed, shooting a wave of confetti.
"Mom," Octavia said, smiling, her face still mushy from waking up. It was a Saturday, and she was glad she didn't have to go to school.
"So what do you want?" Muna asked cheerfully.
"Limca," Octavia replied bluntly.
"Not a chance in hell," she replied without delay. She could afford it, but she wouldn't.
"Not even a second thought?" Octavia said, raising an eyebrow.
"What do you even want to use it for?"
"It's a secretttt," she said, trailing off in a hushed tone.
"Pick something else," Muna said, with an obvious hint of annoyance in her voice. She hated that Octavia kept things from her. She took a deep breath and said,
"I wanna see my dad." Muna narrowed her eyes in anger.
"We've talked about this, haven't we?"
"You said he's not dead, right…" her voice increased. "If that's even the case, why won't you let me see him?!"
"WE ARE NOT TALKING ABOUT THIS!"
"Why are you always so difficult? I hate you," she said, storming to her room. A couple hours later, Muna decided to call.
"Hello, Jim," Muna said, trying her best to hide frustration.
"Oh, if it isn't Muna," he said very slowly; she could hear the joy in his voice.
"Your daughter wants to see you," she said calmly.
"After 16 years… Well, I did tell you to abort, didn't I?" he said, smacking his lips.
"Oh, GOD!" she said sternly.
"If you don't—"
"Okay, okay, but I'm at work right now," he said.
"You'll have to come over here."
She let out a loud sigh and cut the call. Octavia was so excited; she wore her yellow hoodie.
***
When they finally got there, Jim put on his happy face. Only Muna knew what was really under the mask. "Octavia," he tried lifting her up.
"Ooh… you're heavy."
"Rude," she said. "I'm average for my age."
"Oh my!" Jim turned towards Octavia.
"She has my eyes," he said, smiling.
"Is that what you're most excited about?" Muna looked at him impassively. Octavia smirked.
A couple minutes passed after the pleasantries. Muna and Jim were talking about something while Octavia scoured the office.
"Holy," she finally realized. "Everything here is powered by Limca," she muttered to herself. She kept on wandering and suddenly found herself in the library. A vast space encompassed with nothing but books. She walked towards a shelf about 6 feet in height, fixated on the wall. She had a thing for yellow, so she just had to pick the yellow book above her; the only yellow book in the entire library. She stretched with all her might. She was just 5'8". When her hand managed to finally pull the book, the book didn't fall. Instead, the shelf split into two from there, revealing a large open space full of dormant humanoids.
"What the fuck is this?" she said, entering inside without concern.
She glanced around; she could see automated machinery whirring, AI technology creating more AI-humanoids. Something piqued her interest: a surreptitious-looking briefcase. She didn't hesitate for a second. She grabbed it.
"There's no way curiosity kills the cat," she muttered to herself. It had a lock. "Oh, come on," she kicked the table beside her. "There are at least ten thousand combinations I'd try before getting it."
"Where the hell could she have gone?" a muffled sound said from inside the library.
"Shit! Mom," she said, panicking. The shelf opened slowly.
"Don't tell me she's actually in here," Jim said, crossly. The moment Muna saw the place, she got goosebumps.
"What the fuck is this?" she said with a squeezed face.
"My exact thought," Octavia thought, moving towards them.
"You know what?" Jim said. "I think it's time you guys leave," his voice increased.
"Come on, let's go," Muna said, grabbing Octavia's hand. Before leaving, her eyes glanced at a portrait. The picture was a younger Jim with researchers who conducted… "Project Chimer," she whispered. The only way she knew was because her dad was also in the picture. It was one of the reasons he abandoned his family, on a project that forced AI into the human mind. They didn't ask for volunteers. They forced people, and as we know Human Experimentation is banned by all laws.
"This was a mistake."
That night, after Octavia had eaten, her birthday gift came. She brought it out: the case which she smuggled under her hoodie.
"Ten thousand codes tonight, let's go," she said, rolling the lock to 0001. After exactly 35 minutes, she got tired. She felt mild pain on her fingertips, and she had done only 500. She then switched to a more logical tactic. "Mom," she knocked on her room.
"Come in," she said. She walked in; her mom was about to sleep. "Do you know Dad's birthday?" she asked.
"What brought this on?" she said, sitting up. "It's already passed if you wanted to get him something."
"Oh… no, it's not that. I just wanna know," she replied calmly.
"It's April. April 15th."
"Thanks, Mom," she said, bouncing out of her bed.
"Hey, make sure you sleep early today; you have to go to church tomorrow…" The door shut. "Kids."
Octavia put the date in. 0415. Click! "Arrgh!" it didn't work. "Wait," she tried 1504. Still didn't work. She stuffed her head in her pillow. "It's not over yet," she said, sitting up. "Muna, can you tell me the code?"
"I'm afraid I can't provide that information." "Shi—"
"But I have a few suggestions. Your mom's birthday, and yours."
"Hmm," her face showed no emotion. She tried it. Her mother's didn't work. But hers… "1005," she muttered as she rolled it. Clack! It finally opened. But she imagined it. This never really happened. She fell asleep after the 500th roll.
"Wake up, OC," the AI said in a high-pitched voice. It was 2 o'clock in the morning.
"Arrgh," she squeezed her pillow, clearly wanting to go back to sleep, but she knew what was at stake. "Let's go," she said, standing up. She walked to the bathroom to wash her face. She looked at the mirror, and it flickered. "How many did you do when I was asleep?"
"We're currently at 5783," Muna said. She resumed the process.
"I knew I should've started from 9999." It was 4 o'clock, and she was still rolling. Already tired, her sore fingers were begging for rest. 9587. "I'm going to start from the last one," she said angrily.
Click. 9999 opened it. She bit her lip in frustration; she was about to throw it out until she opened it and saw what was inside.
"Oh my Gosh, voluptuous!" she said. "Muna?"
"Yes."
"I can use this, right?" Octavia asked anxiously.
"I'm afraid that is too unstable; it needs to be refined into—"
"Limca. Tch! I'm going to sleep it off," she said, stargazing. "Muna, I'll need you to cut out from that stone."
"Cut out from 1.5 Carat?"
"You can do it, stop with the irrelevant questions," Octavia said. "How long will it take you to refine it?"
"What gave you the impression that I could?"
"How long?" she pressed. "A while. 1 month and 29 days to be precise."
"40 days," Octavia sighed. "2 months is a while." She took a deep breath and drifted to sleep.
The next day, before the sun even rose, Muna barged into her room. "Where's the Limca?" she said, looking cross.
"The—"
"Don't play games with me. Where is it?" She stood up from her bed, rubbing her eyes as she shuffled to the cabinet at the far end of her room. With a sleepy squint, she tapped in a code and pulled out a briefcase and passed it to her mother, yawning.
Muna slapped her forehead. "Lord have mercy, it's too early for this."
"I can't believe you," she continued, looking down at Octavia, disappointed. "Who taught you stealing?"
"It's not like that, Mom," she replied wearily, obviously wanting to get back to sleep.
"Tch!" she said, leaving the room. She had gotten a call that morning from Jim. When she came back from returning it, her daughter had already dressed up for church.
"You have some explaining to do, young lady," Muna said. Octavia said nothing, which made her mom ground her from leaving the house—not that she planned on it or anything. Night came, and they were both busy.
"Muna," Octavia called out.
"Yes?" it replied. "Has the process commenced?" she asked inquisitively.
"Yes. 0.4 Carat cut out successfully. 39 days and 14 hours left."
"Yes!" she screamed. "Let's go." Muna heard the scream, which made her look towards her room. She was also busy, so she didn't ask what was happening. "Muna," she said.
"Yes, ma'am," it replied. Muna was looking flummoxed, not because her AI for the first time called her ma'am, but the description of the necklace from years ago. "What sort of code is this?"
"Unable to process."
"That's the fifth time now," she said wearily. "What do you mean by that?"
"It can't be decrypted that easily by just asking me. Perhaps your daughter could give you more insight."
"Octavia? She's grounded, and I'm not talking to her now."
"She might be your only hope on decrypting that."
"What do you mean, she's just a kid?" Muna said, grabbing the glass of water in front of her. She drank.
"A kid who can theoretically create a time machine—"
"Puuurv!" she poured out all the water in her mouth. "A what?"
"Oh, that should've been a secret." She dropped the glass and stomped toward her daughter's room. She barged in.
"What's this about a time machine?"
Octavia was just lying on her bed, reading H.G. Wells. "Yeah, it's this book I'm reading," she said very calmly, although every part of her body wanted to rant at the AI for ratting her out.
"Oh," Muna said calmly. She took a brief pause and said, "I need your help with something. Meet me in the living room… now." Octavia got a look at the necklace, its pendant, a dull silver disk, smooth and unmarked. She became familiar with the type of code it meant, although from a layman's or even a normal person's perspective, it would look like a normal necklace.
"Muna?" Octavia called out. Her mom narrowed her eyes on her. "Run an infrared scan," she said, angling it toward the AI interface. A soft hum filled the room as the system swept the pendant in a narrow red beam.
"No anomalies detected," the AI responded. Muna frowned.
"Try ultraviolet." A blue light pulsed over the pendant, revealing nothing.
"Still nothing."
She exhaled through her nose, frustration building. "Okay, try thermal mapping. Micro-surface analysis." Another pause.
"Trace indentations detected on the reverse side. Possible micro-etching. Enhancing…" The screen lit up. A series of microscopic grooves formed a faint pattern — invisible to the eye, but now rendered in high contrast.
"Pattern resembles alphanumeric code." Her breath caught. The characters were jumbled to anyone else — but she knew exactly what they meant. A childhood date? A street name? A heady mix of simple and complex. A cipher only she could read. Her voice dropped.
"It's real."
"You recognize the pattern?" the AI asked.
"Yes. It's a message… from—" she looked at her mother. "You."
"What?"
"Oh," Octavia smiled, "This was a test."
"What? No," she took a brief pause. Octavia raised an eyebrow.
"You know what? It is a test. So what does it mean?"
"This analogy…this sequence," she muttered to herself. She stared at it for a while. "It says: Stop Jim, don't give him that briefcase, even if it means lying. But if you've already given it to him, then there's trouble. But don't worry, there's still a chance. You might lose your job, that's the least of it. Here are two other things you can do: find the mainframe before June 14th, 2062, and hack into it, destroy it, or you'll have only the worst option." Octavia stopped and looked at her mom, bewildered.
"Continue," Muna said, breathing heavily.
"Kill Jim… The fate of the world rests on your hands. What kind of sick joke is this, Mom?"
"Go to your room," she said lazily.
"No, answer—"
"I said go to your room," she said, raising her voice. "Have you forgotten… You're grounded."
"Hrrgh!" she walked out, stomping her feet in anger. Being grounded to Octavia didn't really mean anything; she doesn't even have a phone. She could've requested it on her birthday, but she chose to see her father.
"In a month's time," Muna stroked her chin. There was nothing particular she could do, so she called a friend of hers. "Thanks again for doing this, Matthew," she said, handing him coffee. He had dreadlocks, and he was brown-skinned.
Meanwhile, Octavia in her room couldn't bite off her anxiety. "Muna, relay feedback on everything being said in the living room."
"Okay," it said, making a trilling noise.
"So can you do it?—A large tech company like this, it is nigh impossible—Can you do it?—I could get arrested—You owe me this—Sigh!" Octavia sat quiet, stroking her chin. Something was definitely off.
***
The next day came quickly. Muna kissed Octavia goodbye for school, then she went to work. Matthew was already working on accessing the company's mainframe. He knew it wouldn't be trivial; it would take a lot of time.
A month later, June 4th. Matthew brought the data to Muna, but it wasn't what she expected. Jim was making weapons for the government. So why the letter? If the humanoids are for the government, meaning there's no need to— Kill Jim, the whisper echoed through her mind, giving her goosebumps.
"Is everything alright?" Matthew said, looking her in the eye, worried.
"No, yeah," she said, removing her hand from her head. "Is there any way I can stop it?"
"Yes, actually."
"What?!" Muna stood up, bewildered. "Seriously?"
"Yup. It's not the first time I've crashed a major tech company. Remember ZXQ Corp?"
"Shit, that was you?"
"But here's the thing: you'll need to go there directly, drop this device I'll give you—"
"What device?"
"It hasn't been made yet. With the data you've given me, I should be able to create a contraption capable of damaging the systemic circuits of every single bot on a large scale. You will go to prison if you're caught," he said, adjusting his tie.
"What about you?"
He smirked. "I'll be on my way now," he said, standing up.
"Thanks again. I'll walk you out," she said. When they got out, she asked, "How long is this going to take?"
"Ten days, give or take."
"Shit. Could you go any faster?"
"I'll try."
Meanwhile, Octavia went to get a glass of water, saw the data on the table. She knew what it was; in fact, she had listened to the entire conversation. "Hmm, impressive," she said, picking the paper up. "It's not even biotech." The doorknob rattled. She dropped it immediately. Her mom entered. "So you and Matthew, huh?" she said, grabbing a glass of water.
"It's not like that… what? Go to your room," she said, smiling.
"He likes you," Octavia said in a loud voice before entering her room.
***
Ten days passed so fast, even though time was fixed. The night before June 14th, Muna went to Matthew's place.
"Is it done?" she asked, full of curiosity.
"You call me every day, you text me every day. It finally ends today," he scoffed.
"So, is it done?" she asked again.
"Ye—" Muna hugged him before he could finish. He brought out something.
"Thanks, I guess this means I owe you," Muna said.
"How about that dinner?" he said, with a half-smile.
"I'll definitely think about it."
"Six days left, huh?" Octavia said, tossing a metallic core chamber and catching it as she lay on her bed.
"7 days and 17 hours," Muna said.
"Okay… interesting, Octavia said, standing up. "I think I should dye me hair before school tommorow, y'konw? Just a change in appearance."
"I thought you didn't fancy these things," the AI said. Octavia shrugged. "What colour are you thinking?"
"Blonde," she smirked.
The next day came. Muna had orchestrated a plan to activate the device once she got into the office. She was about to drop her daughter at school. They both stared into each other's eyes like they knew something was supposed to happen today.
"You look a lot like me today," she said with a half-smile. Her heat skipped a beat, like she remembered something from years ago but couldn't really figure out what she remembered. She tried to calm her breathing down. "Stay safe," she said, patting her head. Octavia narrowed her eyes towards her, giving her a piercing stare before she left. She got into the car… and yes, the promotion had its benefits. The moment she turned the keys, she saw something flying over her. It was it: the bots.
"I'm too late," she said, hitting her car horn, but that was the least of her worries. The bot simply launched a missile into the school. A blazing inferno enveloped it, creating a cataclysmic wave that scorched everything in its path. Roofs, windows, and doors shot out with flame. Muna yanked her door open but the shockwave closed it back. She forced it again and burst out. "Octavia!!!" she screamed with her knees on the floor. The smoke had reached her car, but not close enough to cause damage. Tears streamed down her eyes with her fingers scraping on the asphalt. "No, no, noo!" she sobbed.
Five people were running towards her. The tears stopped momentarily. Three boys and two girls, and Octavia was one of them.
She ran towards Muna. "Mom," she hugged her, tears filled her eyes and body covered with soot. "Let's go," she said firmly.
"What about them?" Octavia asked.
"We don't have time for this," Muna said, opening the door.
"Get in." When they got home, everyone was eager to do something.
"We leave in 5," Muna said. "Muna," Octavia said to her AI. "Transfer all your data to this drive," she said, bringing out a metallic orb that had a blue glowing ring.
"That'll take longer than you think," it said. "You'll have to leave me, OC."
"No," she said, stuffing her time machine junk in her bag. "Where's the Limca?"
"It's not yet completely refined," Muna said.
"I need it like that," she said, biting her lip. "I might be able to change things."
"Time to go, Octavia," it was her mom, shouting from wherever she was. A case came out of her ceiling.
"Here it is," the AI said. "It's not yet stable; you can't use it in the time machine."
"It'll never hurt to try," she grabbed it and reached for the door. "Goodbye, Muna."
"Goodbye, Octavia." She closed the door solemnly, holding back her tears.
"What's in the case?" her mom asked.
"You're about to find out," she said. They got in the car, and she was off to Matthew's place. Octavia looked through the window. They were everywhere, flying and wreaking havoc. Everything in its wake was pulverized. The car swiveled; Octavia hit her head on the window.
"You okay?" her mom asked, with one eye on the road. Octavia looked through the glass with her squinted eyes, and one of the bots was right above them.
"Mom?! Mom?!" she said, her eyes wide open. "Stop the car. We need to get out," she panicked.
The car stopped abruptly; they jumped out. The next thing, the engine caught up in a furnace, and the car blew up. "Let's go, let's go," Muna said, running away from the fire. Muna and Octavia entered a random building; it was a skyscraper. They hid behind a desk. Something followed them. Its mechanical footsteps echoed around the deserted building. Octavia was shivering.
"M-m-mom," she stammered.
"It's okay, it's okay," she said, holding her shaky hands.
"What if it can't see infrared?" Muna said nothing; her heart was also beating incredibly fast. She was still processing what she just said.
"Target Lock," an inhumane voice said.
"Mom?" Octavia looked at her with tears and snot. She just hugged her tighter. A crackling sound was heard. Muna took a peek and saw someone stabbing the humanoid with a knife. Wires sprang out, blue sparks spat from the gash with a furious hiss and the bot powered down. The air was filled with the acrid smell of ozone. She got up immediately and brought out a gun.
"Don't move," she said, pointing it at the person in front of her. Her hands were trembling and filled with sweat.
He looked like he was in his early 20s.
"Hey," he got alarmed, raising his hands up.
"How'd you do that?" she said, pointing the gun at the bot.
"Oh, this. I used a knife." She cocked the gun. "Okay, okay, it's an EMP knife. It shuts down anything in a 100-meter radius. It takes just a minute to recharge."
"Just a minute? How's that even possible?"
"Limca," he said, his face now deadpan.
"Mom, what are you doing? He saved our life," Octavia said, standing up. She wasn't going to ask how her mother had a gun; she probably knew.
"Okay," she said, dropping the gun.
"I'm Duke."
"Muna, this is my daughter, Octavia."
"It's not safe, we need to leave," he said. "B—"
"Mom, I can change things," she said, bringing out her bag.
"What do you mean?" Muna said. She brought the device out. It looked rusty, but Octavia had faith. She brought out a core chamber from the side of her bag and put it into the side of the machine. "Now all that's left is Limca," she said.
"What's this?" Duke said, already behind them.
"It's a Time Machine," she said, gritting her teeth in a smug way.
"How the hell did you build this under my roof, and I didn't know?" Muna said. Her words were irate.
"Not now, Mom," she said.
"Hey, you, Duke, right? Your knife's made of Limca."
"Not a chance. I'm using this to survive." "THIS IS OUR ONLY CHANCE OF SURVIVAL," she said, infuriated, but he didn't change his mind.
"What about the bots? They're powered by Limca, aren't they?" Muna asked.
"It's infinitesimal compared to what is needed," she said, rolling some sort of sequence.
"The date, right?" Duke asked. She ignored him.
"I have no choice." She opened the case beside her.
"Woah, woah, woah, that's not processed yet," Duke said.
"Very unstab—" 'BANG!' The buiding shuddered. A loud crash outside.
"We, no, you need to hurry," Muna said.
Octavia wore a glove, grabbed the Limca, and inserted it into the core chamber. It made a trilling sound. It was powered on. The joy on Octavia's face was priceless. The building shook again.
"There would be side effects," Duke said.
"Like you know anything about time travel," Octavia said, ready to tap the button.
"Wait, what side effects?" Muna asked. "It's not that serious, maybe Iridial Chroma-shift, dement—" a deadly cacophony of destruction befell them but Muna pushed Octavia just in time.
"Mom!" she screamed.
Octavia's scream was the last thing she heard as a jagged chunk of concrete slammed into her, pinning her to the ground. The pain was immediate and unbearable.
"No, no, no!"
She coughed, the dust clouded her lungs, and looked up at her daughter's terrified face.
"No, you go. Make sure this never happens," she said.
Duke walked out with an iron pierced inside his leg. He fell down. "I saved your bloody machine."
Octavia ran towards it.
"I'll save you, Mom." she sobbed, tears and snot streaking through the soot on her cheeks. She fumbled with her machine.
"Take this," Muna said. "My necklace." All the pieces fit into Octavia's head. "Give it to me," she said. "Okay. I'm ready."
"Wait," Muna said. "The cycle would only repeat… My bag."
"Where, where?" she looked around. Only debris everywhere. She moved her eyes quickly on the ground. "There, the handle… ahh!" she pointed while trying to endure the pain that rested on her.
"Duke, help me." There was a large rock on it.
"On three," he said. "1, 2, 3!" They raised it vehemently, and Muna pulled the bag. She searched it quickly; her mom had almost passed out. She brought out a hexagonal contraption, full of gears.
'Made of lodestone,' Octavia thought. "Is this it?" Octavia said to her dying mother. "It's damaged."
"Yes, give—" she coughed. "It to me. It should be able to buy me time to stop it."
"This would definitely tamper causality," Duke said.
"That's good."
"Listen," Duke said, tapping her by the shoulder. "If this is a before-you-existed kind of thing, you might not exist if it goes wrong."
Octavia looked at her mom. "It was the day before I got pregnant with you."
"There's also the risk of paradox," Duke added.
"Its almost like you don't want me to go," she said. "I'll take my chances." 'I hope this changes something,' she thought. With a screw, a roll, and a turn. Octavia turned it on. A large blue energy wave released from the machine hit her instantaneously. Duke covered his eyes, too much light. "I'll save you, Mom," she vanished.
She appeared in an office, just to meet her mother, who looked so much younger. She felt a sting in her eyes. "Shit, this must be the effects," she muttered, rubbing them.
"MOM."
"Mom?!" she looked perplexed. Octavia moved swiftly towards her without saying anything else and hugged her. "Are you—"
"No time to explain," she said, putting her hand in her pocket.
"This gives the secret to this…" she looked disgusted, "…place."
"I don't understand," she said, opening her palm.
"Mom?" her eyes were all teary as she handed Muna a pendant. "Take this…" she brought something out. The Hex Core. "Save us."
She vanished.