The Hidden Agenda

The blaring alarm and flashing red lights sent the exhibit into a state of pandemonium. Scientists rushed to secure their equipment, and armed guards fanned out across the room, scanning the air with rifles at the ready. James's pulse quickened as Margaret's grip on his arm tightened.

"We have to move," she hissed.

James hesitated, his eyes darting back to the clock. The artifact sat in its display, untouched and pristine, yet its mere presence seemed to be at the center of the alarm. The guards were too focused on securing the area to notice them slipping away—at least for now.

Margaret pulled him toward an emergency exit at the far end of the exhibit. "Don't make me regret trusting you," she muttered under her breath.

"I'm starting to wonder if I should trust you," James shot back.

She ignored him, swiping a keycard to unlock the exit. The door hissed open, revealing a narrow corridor bathed in cold, fluorescent light. They ducked inside, and the heavy door slid shut behind them, muffling the alarm.

Margaret turned to James, her eyes blazing. "You're not just some random visitor. I want the truth, Bennett. Who are you?"

James hesitated. He couldn't tell her everything, not yet. "I'm a historian," he said cautiously. "I study artifacts like the clock."

Her expression hardened. "Try again. That clock isn't just an artifact—it's a weapon, a key, and a curse rolled into one. And people don't just stumble upon it. They're drawn to it. So I'll ask you one more time: Who are you?"

James swallowed hard. "Okay. I'm James Bennett. I am here by chance—that is, thanks to this watch. It. transported me. How or why I do not know, but perhaps it has a thing or two to do with my family."

Margaret's eyes slightly widened, yet she didn't seem all that shocked. "So you are connected to Thomas Bennett."

"Yes, he was my grandfather," replied James.

She let out a sharp breath and rubbed her temples. "Of course. It all makes sense now. Thomas warned me about this."

James furrowed his brow. "Warned you about what?

Margaret paced the corridor, her frustration evident. "Years ago, I met your grandfather. He was already an older man, but sharp as a blade. He told me about the clock, about its power to manipulate time. He said it was too dangerous to fall into the wrong hands. I thought he was just another eccentric collector—until the clock showed up at ChronoDyne."

She stopped and fixed James with a piercing gaze. "He told me to protect it, to keep it out of reach of anyone who might abuse its power. But I didn't listen. I let ChronoDyne take control, and now everything is unraveling."

James's mind was racing. His grandfather could have known the danger of this clock and, perhaps, even used it. But why hadn't he warned James? And exactly what had ChronoDyne done to the timeline?

"Does ChronoDyne want the clock?" James asked.

Margaret shook her head. "Power, control, greed—take your pick. They've been running experiments on it, trying to unlock its secrets. They think they can harness time as a resource, but they don't understand the consequences."

"Consequences like this timeline," James said grimly.

She nodded. "Exactly. Every experiment they run causes ripples—unintended changes to the timeline. The more they tamper with it, the worse it gets. And if they keep pushing." She trailed off, her expression dark.

James swallowed hard. "What happens?"

Margaret's voice was barely a whisper. "The timeline collapses. No future. No past. Just. nothing."

Their conversation is interrupted by the far-off sound of boots echoing in the corridor. The guards had worked out they were gone. Margaret grabbed James's arm again.

"This way," she said, leading him farther into the maze-like hallway.

They stepped out into a dimly lit storage area filled with shelves of equipment and crates stamped with the logo of ChronoDyne. Margaret scanned the room quickly, then motioned for James to follow her to a hidden panel in the wall. She pressed a sequence of buttons, and the panel slid open, revealing a small elevator.

"Where does this go?" James asked.

"Somewhere safe," Margaret replied.

They stepped inside, and the elevator descended in near silence. James leaned against the wall, his mind swirling with questions. "You said my grandfather warned you. What else did he tell you?"

Margaret hesitated, as if weighing how much to reveal. "He said the clock was part of a larger design. That it wasn't just an object, but a link to something bigger—a web of timelines, all interconnected. And he said the Bennetts were its guardians."

James blinked. "Guardians? My family?"

She nodded. "Your grandfather believed the clock had chosen your family to protect it, to ensure it wasn't misused. But if that's true, then you being here means something's gone very wrong."

Before James could respond, the elevator came to a halt. The doors slid open, revealing an underground bunker filled with monitors, maps, and old books. It was a makeshift command center, and the centerpiece was a detailed diagram of the clock's inner workings.

Margaret stepped out and gestured around the room. "Welcome to my sanctuary. This is where we figure out how to fix the mess we're in."

James's gaze landed on the diagram of the clock. It was more intricate than he'd realized, with layers of gears and inscriptions that seemed to shift under the light. As he studied it, a chilling thought struck him.

"What if we can't fix it?" he asked quietly.

Margaret looked at him, her expression resolute. "We don't have a choice. If we don't stop ChronoDyne, there won't be anything left to fix."

Before she could say more, one of the monitors flashed with an alert. A robotic voice echoed through the bunker.

"Unauthorized intrusion detected. Reinforcements en route."

James's stomach sank. Someone had found them.

Margaret grabbed a device from a nearby table and tossed it to James. "If they get in here, we're out of options. You need to get to the clock and stop this—whatever it takes."

James caught the device and nodded, determination hardening his resolve. "Let's do this."