The king's arrival

The café was quiet, but the barista could feel the weight of the timelines shifting around them. The scientist's downfall had created chaos, a chaos that the barista's agents were quick to exploit. The remnants of her invention had been gathered and transported to a hidden facility, where they would be used to develop the time-travel technology the barista needed.

But the barista's work was far from finished. The chessboard was expanding, and the next piece was about to enter the game.

The door creaked open, and the barista turned to see a new patron step inside.

---

He was a man out of time, his clothes a patchwork of eras—a medieval cloak over a modern shirt, with boots that looked like they belonged to a soldier from the future. His eyes were sharp and calculating, scanning the room with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. In his hand, he held a device—a small, intricate thing that hummed with energy.

The barista smiled faintly. They already knew his name. They already knew his story.

"Welcome," they said, their voice smooth and inviting. "What can I get for you?"

The king hesitated, glancing around the café as if unsure how he had ended up here. "I… I don't know. I was working, and then… I guess I needed a break."

"Of course," the barista said, already reaching for a cup. "Sit. Rest. The answers you seek will come."

The king sat at the counter, his fingers drumming nervously on the polished wood. The barista watched him carefully, noting the dark circles under his eyes, the faint tremor in his hands. He was on the brink of something—a breakthrough, a discovery that would change the world. But he didn't know it yet.

The barista placed the cup in front of him, the steam rising in delicate swirls. "Drink," they said. "It will help."

The king hesitated, then lifted the cup to his lips. The moment the liquid touched his tongue, his eyes widened, and the world around him dissolved.

---

He stood in a grand hall, surrounded by nobles and advisors. In his hands was a scepter—a symbol of his power and authority. He recognized it instantly. It was his invention, the one he had been struggling to perfect for years.

But this was no prototype. This was the finished product, a masterpiece of engineering and ingenuity. He watched as his future self demonstrated the device to a room full of scientists and investors, their faces alight with awe and excitement.

The vision shifted.

He saw his invention being used in ways he had never imagined—powering cities, curing diseases, even exploring the stars. It was everywhere, changing the world in ways he had only dreamed of.

The vision faded, and he found himself back in the café, the cup still in his hands. His heart raced, his mind reeling from what he had seen.

"What… what was that?" he stammered.

"Your future," the barista said simply. "Or at least, one possible future."

The king stared at them, his eyes wide with wonder. "How… how did you do that?"

The barista smiled faintly. "The coffee has a way of revealing what lies ahead. But remember, the future is not set in stone. It is shaped by the choices we make."

The king set the cup down, his hands trembling. "That future… it's everything I've been working for. But it feels so far away. How do I get there?"

The barista leaned forward, their eyes locking onto his. "You must share your work. The knowledge you possess is too valuable to keep to yourself. There are others who can help you, who can bring your vision to life."

The king nodded slowly, his resolve hardening. "You're right. I've been too isolated. If I want to change the world, I need to collaborate."

The barista's smile widened, just slightly. "Exactly."

---

As the king stood to leave, the barista watched him carefully. They had seen his future—not just the one they had shown him, but the countless possibilities that branched out from this moment. In some, he succeeded, his invention changing the world for the better. In others, he failed, his work lost to obscurity. But the barista wasn't interested in those futures. They had their own agenda.

"One more thing," the barista said as the king reached the door.

He turned, his hand on the knob. "Yes?"

"Seek out the Society of the Eternal Flame," the barista said, their voice calm but commanding. "They will help you achieve your goals."

The king frowned. "The Society of the Eternal Flame? I've never heard of them."

"You will," the barista said. "Trust me."

The king nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Thank you."

And with that, he was gone.

---

The barista turned to the wall of clocks, their mind already calculating the next move. The Society of the Eternal Flame was one of their oldest creations, a secret society they had funded centuries ago. Its members were scattered across time, their influence reaching into every corner of history. And now, they would play a crucial role in the barista's plan.

They activated the temporal window, watching as the king's invention spread through the world. The Society of the Eternal Flame was there at every step, guiding its development and ensuring it fell into the right hands. The barista smiled faintly. Everything was going according to plan.

But then something unexpected happened.

The king's invention began to evolve, taking on a life of its own. It was no longer just a tool—it was a catalyst, sparking a technological revolution that would reshape the world. The barista watched as the timelines shifted, new possibilities branching out like tendrils of light.

They deactivated the window, their mind racing. This was more than they had anticipated. The king's invention was not just a means to an end—it was a force of its own, one that could change the course of history in ways even the barista couldn't predict.

But the barista was not one to panic. They had faced worse before, and they had always found a way to turn the situation to their advantage. This would be no different.

---

The barista turned back to the counter, their fingers tracing the rim of the king's cup. They had shown him a vision of success, but they had left out one crucial detail: his invention would eventually lead to the creation of a time-travel device.

It was a risky move, of course. Time travel was a dangerous tool, one that could easily spiral out of control. But the barista had no intention of letting that happen. They would be the one to control it, to wield it as a weapon in their endless game.

They smiled, a cold, calculating smile. "Let them build their future," they murmured. "In the end, it will be mine to command."

---