Chapter 13: Before the Leap

Chapter 13: Before the Leap

Subdued activity buzzed in the temporal lab as the team regrouped after their mission to 1347. The air was thick with unspoken tension, even while, and maybe because, the team had succeeded. Each member wrestled with the gravity of what they'd faced—and what lay ahead.

Samara reset her tracker, its soft pulse indicating the next temporal aberration. "The Renaissance. Florence, 1478. That is when the Syndicate's power will come to a head with that of the Medici family."

Eli leaned against the console, his face shrouded in exhaustion. "What are they after this time? Power? Wealth?

Graves snorted. "They already have those. They're after something bigger-control over innovation. The Renaissance is a tipping point. A few wrong bumps and we can lose centuries of progress."

Samara nodded, her expression somber. "Art, science, philosophy-all human accomplishment-the Syndicate can change. 

Eli's Burden

Later that night, Eli sat in solitude on the observation deck of the lab, staring out at the shimmying waves of the temporal field. Anna's message played on repeat in his head: "Don't let my sacrifice weigh you down."

But it did.

He rubbed his temples, trying to push away the image of her final moments. Choices he'd made, ones where he'd sent her into the breach, were like scars he carried in private.

"Penny for your thoughts?

Samara's voice broke the silence. She stepped into the room, holding onto a mug emitting steam.

Eli turned his face towards her and then made to force a small smile. "You'd be overpaying."

Samara held the mug out to him before sitting next to him. "You can't keep doing this, Eli. Carrying the weight of every loss on your shoulders. Anna made her choice. We all did."

His jaw flexed. "Doesn't make it easier."

"No," Samara said in agreement. "But if we don't keep moving forward, what was it all for?"

He sighed and nodded. "You're right. We have to focus on what's next. For Anna—and for everyone else counting on us."

Grave Preparation

In the armory, Graves was methodically preparing their weapons, his hands working with precision, now reminiscent of a soldier who had seen one too many battles.

As he calibrated a plasma blade, his mind wandered to the Renaissance mission. He wasn't an art aficionado, but he understood the stakes. The Renaissance wasn't just about beauty—it was about humanity rediscovering its potential.

"What's eating you, Graves?"

Samara's voice startled him. She leaned against the doorframe, her tracker tucked under one arm.

"Nothing," he grunted. "Just making sure we're ready."

She stepped closer, her voice softening. "You always say that. But this mission feels different, doesn't it?"

Graves set the blade down and met her gaze. "Every mission's a gamble. But yeah, this one's big. The Renaissance isn't just history-it's identity. If we lose this. we lose ourselves."

Samara nodded. "Then let's make sure we don't lose.

Samara's Resolve

Samara returned to the main lab, her mind buzzing with calculations. She was often expected to be the solution for the team on matters that no one else could figure out. This mission would test not only her knowledge but also her adaptability against an era of breakthroughs and intrigue.

She pulled up files on Leonardo da Vinci, Michelangelo, and the Medici family, cross-referencing the information with the known Syndicate activity. "If they're targeting Florence, they might go through da Vinci," she muttered. "His work was ahead of its time-too tempting for the Syndicate to ignore."

Her eyes flicked to Anna's recorded message, still displayed on the console.

"Use it to fuel the fight.

Samara straightened, determination filling her chest. "We'll stop them, Anna. No matter what it takes."

The Jump's Challenges

The next morning, the team gathered in the briefing room. A holographic map of Florence in 1478 hovered before them, illuminated by a warm golden glow.

Samara nodded to a clump of buildings. "The anomaly is centred around the Santa Maria del Fiore cathedral. It's also the year of the Pazzi Conspiracy, the full-on assassination attempt on Lorenzo de' Medici and his brother. If the Syndicate are involved then they may use the chaos to further their goals."

 Graves crossed his arms. "Assassinations, power struggles-just like a holiday.

Eli ignored the sarcasm. "We'll need to blend in, gather intelligence, and identify their operatives. The Medici family has enemies everywhere, so we'll have to be careful not to draw attention."

Samara added, "We also need to locate any Syndicate tech. If they're introducing advanced tools into this era, it could accelerate their agenda."

Graves smirked. "Guess we're trading plasma rifles for daggers and cloaks."

Eli nodded. "And for once, no explosions unless absolutely necessary."

Final Preparations

The weight of the mission settled over them as the team suited up. They fitted themselves out in Renaissance-era attire-layers of rich fabrics designed to blend with Florence's elite. Beneath their fine silks and satins, they strapped on small devices: temporal stabilizers, compact weapons, and trackers camouflaged as period-acceptable adornments.

Samara handed Eli a slender dagger. "This is laced with a disruptor charge. It'll short-circuit any Syndicate tech you encounter."

He took it, testing its balance. "Thanks."

Graves adjusted his sword belt, grumbling, "Let's hope I don't have to actually fight with one of these."

Eli grinned. "You'll manage."

Stepping into Florence

The jump chamber was alive with humming energy, building to a crescendo. The team stepped onto the platform, their faces set in determination and apprehension.

Samara punched in the coordinates through firm fingers. "Florence, 1478. Let's make sure the Renaissance stays a Renaissance."

Eli looked at his team, his voice commanding. "This isn't just about stopping the Syndicate. It's about protection of what makes us human. Let's do this.

The chamber wavered through a kaleidoscope of light, and the team disappeared into the eddies of time.