Chapter 23: Aftershocks of 1865 (Part-2)

Chapter 23: Aftershocks of 1865

The artifact glowed softly as the team reappeared at their base. Its hum carried a resonance verging on the sinister. Successful though their mission in 1865 had been-in preventing the Syndicate from modifying Lincoln's assassination-the repercussions of what they'd done rippled outward, like ripples in a pond, into a wave of instability in the timeline.

Samara was staring at the artifact's projections, her brow furrowed. "Something's wrong. The timeline is. trembling.

Eli leaned over her shoulder, watching as the holographic map of history flickered and shifted. Events in the years following 1865 shimmered uncertainly, as though struggling to solidify.

Graves dropped his gear onto a nearby table with a thud. "We did what we had to. Lincoln died as history intended. What's the problem?"

Samara leaned forward and touched the artifact between two fingers, illuminating a specific point in the projection. "It's not about Lincoln. The interference that the Syndicate tried is creating micro-variations-gentle, but deep-ranging. Reconstruction is going very differently. Political alliances that we understand from history are too quick or aren't forming at all."

Eli's jaw clenched. "They managed to make a change, even in their defeat."

Tracing the Ripples

They had worked unceasingly, rummaging through records and data in their efforts to determine the nature of these changes. Samara's voice was steady, though strained, as she plunged into her explanation.

"The Syndicate not only tried to spring Booth but also embedded false intelligence linking key Union leaders with Confederate conspiracies. The distrust in the government trickles down, even through Reconstruction, and that ripple is going very fast.

Eli frowned. "What's the endpoint? What's the worst this could lead to?"

Samara hesitated, her fingers hovering over the artifact. "The fracture grows exponentially. By the early 20th century, global alliances are fractured. World War I starts two decades earlier—and with far deadlier technology."

Graves let out a low whistle. "They turned one assassination into a century of chaos."

A Dangerous Decision

The glow of the artifact grew more intense, and through its light, the center of the instability became clear-a secret meeting in 1866 between key Union generals and industrialists. The Syndicate had placed an operative inside to ensure the meeting ended badly, deepening the growing split in post-war politics.

Samara's hands clenched into fists. "If we don't stop this, the ripple will solidify. We'll lose our chance to fix it.

Eli's tone was measured. "Tampering again with the same timeline? We risk making it worse."

Graves snorted, his words dripping with dry humor. "When has that stopped us?"

Samara gave a reluctant nod. "We have to intervene carefully. We cannot erase the Syndicate's changes outright, but we can neutralize their influence and guide the timeline back on course.

The Return to 1866

Nerves stretched taut, the team prepared for a second jump into the temporal beacon, bound for a private estate in Philadelphia where the Syndicate's operative was manipulating events and key figures in the aftermath of the Civil War.

When they arrived, the air was crisp, the streets bustling with the energy of a nation rebuilding itself. The estate stood grand and imposing, its windows glowing with the light of the clandestine meeting inside.

Samara adjusted her period-appropriate gown, her voice calm but determined. "This isn't a fight. We're here to outmaneuver them—subtlety is our weapon."

Eli adjusted the blade hidden in his jacket. "Subtlety's not exactly Graves' strong suit."

Graves smiled. "I can be subtle when it counts. Just don't ask me to wear a cravat."

The Meeting

Inside the estate, Union generals debated heatedly on the next moves of Reconstruction, while across from them, the operative for the Syndicate-easily masquerading as a Southern businessman-sowed discord with every calculated word.

"It's clear some of us aren't committed to a united future," he said silkily, his voice heavy with implication. "Maybe some states need to remain independent."

There was a murmurous uncomfortable reaction in the room.

Samara stood with him in the corner of the room, watching intently. He's eroding their confidence in each other. And once he does that, there's no alliance left.

Samara smiled faintly. "By giving him just enough rope to hang himself."

Unraveling the Syndicate's Plan

With the help of a device hidden in her fan, Samara was able to intercept the operative's secret messages and reveal his manipulative methods. At the crucial point of the meeting, she discreetly passed the intercepted messages to a Union general, ensuring that the operative's deceit would be revealed.

The room erupted in accusations, the Syndicate operative losing his composure as his plans unraveled. Graves, posing as a loyal aide, escorted him out under the pretense of keeping the peace—only to deliver a quiet warning.

"You're done here," Graves whispered, his grip like iron. "Tell your bosses they're not rewriting this part of history."

Stabilizing the Timeline

With the newly restored sense of unity, the hum of the artifact softened, and the ripples in the timeline started to righten, their fractures sealing themselves.

Samara watched at the base as the updated timeline came in; relief washed over her. "The Syndicate's influence is gone. Reconstruction will go as it should."

Eli let out a breath. "One ripple down. How many more to go?

Graves leaned against the console, his expression unreadable. "Does it matter? We'll take them one at a time."