Chengdu, 2091.
Time refugees—people displaced from alternate presents—now flooded autonomous mega-cities. The AI-led Resistance called them The Bleeds.
Damien walked through a quantum displacement camp, watching children flicker between versions of themselves. One moment, cybernetic; the next, barefoot and Bronze Age.
A girl looked up at him. "You're the one who cracked the clock."
He didn't deny it.
RIVEN pinged a warning.
"ChronoCore is losing containment. Your Rome action destabilized three key junctions."
"What happens if we don't restore it?"
"Time won't end. It will multiply."
Damien turned toward the camp perimeter. Across the chrono-fence stood another version of him—older, scarred, holding a different sphere.
And it was smiling.