Chapter 2: The Cost of Time

Chapter 2: The Cost of Time

Eli woke to silence.

At first, he thought the machine had failed. The lab was gone, replaced by a featureless expanse of fog that reached out in every direction like a lake. Beneath him, the ground was cold, smooth, and featureless. It might have been polished stone. There was no sign of Samara, no sign of the machine. There was only an oppressive stillness that leaned upon his chest.

"Samara?" he called out. His voice came back with an odd echo.

No answer. Panic coursed through him as he struggled to his feet. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. They'd calibrated everything down to the millisecond. There should have been no gap, no void-just a clean leap to the target point in the past.

He spun around, peering into the darkness for any sign of her, until a faint light flickered far off. Hesitating, he started toward it, his footsteps eerily soundless. 

As he drew near, the fog started to break apart, revealing a familiar scene: his old apartment.

Eli froze. The warm light spilling in through the window, the faint hum of the radio-it was just as he remembered it. Yet this couldn't be real. It just couldn't. This was the night Anna called him.

A lump welled in his throat as he took a step closer, his heart racing in his chest. Through the glass, he saw his brown-haired self slumped over his desk, headphones on, scratching away at notes for a machine that would one day bring him here. The phone on the table buzzed, and he watched his younger self glance at it before completely disregarding it.

Pick it up," Eli whispered, shaking. "Please, just pick it up."

The scene didn't budge. It played out exactly as it had before. The phone buzzed three more times, then stopped. Moments later, his younger self grabbed his coat and left the room, oblivious to the call he would regret for the rest of his life. 

"Eli.

The voice jolted him, and he turned sharply to see Samara standing behind him. Her face was pale, her eyes wide with something between awe and fear. 

"Where the hell are we?" she asked, glancing around. "This. this isn't the past."

"I don't know," Eli admitted, his voice shaking. "I think it's some kind of. temporal feedback. A memory, maybe."

A memory?" Samara took a step closer to the window, her gaze darting between him and the scene inside. "What are we supposed to do with it? Fix it?"

He shook his head. "It's not real. We can't interact with it. It's just-"

"Then why are we here?" she interrupted, her tone sharp.

Before he could answer, the fog started to thicken once more, consuming the apartment. The scene blurred, then completely dissolved, thrusting them into darkness.

Samara clutched at his arm. "Eli, this isn't what we planned. Something's wrong."

"I know." His mind raced, trying to piece together what could have caused the anomaly. It wasn't supposed to create distortions-the machine was designed to anchor them directly to their target coordinates.

Before he could continue further, another scene emerged from the void. This time, it was Samara's turn to freeze.

They were standing on the corner of a street at dusk. The faint smell of rain still clung in the air as, from a distance, the soft glow of a streetlamp shone long, stretched shadows. A younger Samara stood a few feet away, clutching a bouquet of white lilies. Her lips moved silently as she stared at a headstone etched with the name Isabel Hayes.

Eli's chest tightened as he glanced at her. "Who was she?"

Samara didn't answer. She was still staring hard at the scene, her hands in fists.

"Samara—"

"She was my sister," she said finally, her voice raw. "She died because I wasn't there. I. I was late. Fifteen minutes late. If I'd just gotten there sooner.

Her words faltered and she glanced away, her jaw tight.

Eli reached out, but she stepped back. "Don't. I don't need your pity."

"It's not pity," he said softly. "It's understanding."

She met his gaze, and for a moment, the wall she kept so carefully in place seemed to crack. Then the scene dissolved to leave them once again in the empty void.

Eli let out a shaky breath. His mind was numb. This wasn't what he was expecting. This device was supposed to take them back, not make them face the very moments they wanted to avoid. 

"Warn us from something?" Samara asked finally after the silence. 

"Yeah, maybe," Eli said, though he had no idea. "Or maybe it's a test." 

"A test for what?

He hesitated, then looked her in the eye. "To see if we deserve to change things."

Samara's face hardened. "We deserve it. Whatever it takes.

But before Eli could answer, the void changed once more, and a humming sound filled the air. The light brightened even more, and they covered their eyes.

When the glow faded, they were no longer alone. A figure stood before them, bathed in shadow, their face hidden.

"You don't belong here," the figure said, his voice low, cold.

Samara stepped forward. "Who are you?

The figure didn't reply. He stretched up his hand, and the void around him seemed to undulate. 

"You cannot alter the past without paying the due price," he said. "And it is not as inexpensive as you would imagine.".