Zerahk_Williams

In a future where time is currency and the poor sell years of their lives just to survive, Elian Voss is nearly out of time—literally. With only a few years left on his lifespan, the weary technician stumbles upon a mysterious device that could unravel the system stealing futures from billions. Hunted by enforcers and haunted by visions of fragmented futures, Elian joins a resistance cell determined to take down the Time Credit System and expose the truth behind the Vault—a secret facility where stolen time is hoarded by the elite.

But every use of the device accelerates Elian’s own countdown. As the city teeters on the brink of collapse, he must decide: die quietly, or give up what little time he has left to rewrite humanity’s tomorrow.

Fragments of Tomorrow is a high-stakes sci-fi thriller about sacrifice, inequality, and the true cost of a life well-lived.

The Continuum Protocol

Like she'd been folded into herself and left there.

Seren's thoughts slipped sideways. Not quite dreams. Not quite memories. Something in between.

The Vault had always been a halfway place.

A liminal space between intention and consequence.

Between the future they promised and the past they couldn't bury.

And she had helped design it.

She remembered the first simulation waking up.

Not the ones that were supposed to follow scripts.

The one that asked her a question.

Not how long it had been in the loop.

She hadn't answered. She'd logged the behavior. Tagged the fragment for reevaluation.

Then she'd gone home that night and stared at the ceiling until morning.

Lorne had seen the hesitation in her long before she voiced it.

He never threatened her. Never tried to remove her.

He just kept giving her more control.

That was how the Regulators worked. They didn't take your conscience. They let you strangle it yourself.

"Let the system sort itself," he told her once. "That's the elegance of recursion. The cleaner the parameters, the tighter the control."

She remembered staring at the core schematic on her screen and thinking:

It's a mausoleum that thinks it's a mirror.

She heard Elian's voice, somewhere nearby.

She had fought for the Vault because she thought it was the only way to preserve what mattered.

But she had betrayed it—truly, fully—the day she realized:

Preservation without truth is just another form of forgetting.

She felt someone lift her. Kaia? Elian?

But as darkness took her once more, she knew this:

If she died here, it would be as the version of herself she should have been all along.

And maybe—if they survived long enough to read them—a mother to a new kind of future

The Weight of the Blueprint