Brutal shock. A dizzying sensation, a need to vomit. Then… reality reformed.
Peter opened his eyes and immediately felt that something was wrong. The air was heavy, saturated with smoke and static electricity. Sirens wailed in the distance. He was in a dark alley, between half-collapsed buildings whose neon signs flickered weakly.
His hands… they weren't his.
They were larger, calloused. He looked around, then spotted a reflective surface: a broken billboard. He slowly approached and stared at his reflection.
A man with hard features, a scar along his jaw, and dark eyes stared back. He wore a worn uniform reinforced with light armor plating.
Peter's internal interface activated automatically:
— Connection in progress… Host identified: Darek Voss. Status: Wanted.
— Data: Former agent of the Alliance, deserter, suspected of stealing energy prototypes.
— Great… Peter muttered.
He closed his eyes for a second, trying to focus. His body trembled slightly—the side effects of the transfer. He only had a few minutes to adapt before someone noticed him.
Then, a noise rumbled behind him.
A group of armed men approached quickly. One of them shouted:
— There! He's there!
Shit.
Peter reacted on instinct and sprinted into the alley. His body responded surprisingly well—no doubt the reflexes of the real Darek Voss. He cleared a rusted fence, skidded over rubble, and burst into a crowded street.
The city was chaotic: surveillance drones patrolled above, holographic billboards projected propaganda messages.
Citizens of Nova-Terra, reconstruction is in our hands. Any opposition will be dealt with severely.
Peter tried to blend into the crowd, but his new body was too recognizable. A giant screen above a building suddenly displayed his face, along with a wanted notice:
Darek Voss — Traitor to the Alliance. Reward: 50,000 credits.
— Seriously?! he spat, exasperated.
A figure in a dark coat suddenly grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into a deserted alley. Peter tried to protest, but the stranger whispered:
— If you want to stay alive, follow me.
Peter hesitated. But given the situation, he didn't really have a choice. The two men took off through the city.
Night began to fall, and darkness draped the city like a shroud. The alleys were now deserted, but the atmosphere remained heavy, saturated with that feeling of electrical tension. Wind whistled between the collapsed skyscrapers, sweeping shredded papers and metal debris. Peter—or rather Darek Voss—stood in the shadow of a ruined building, his body tense, ready to leap.
The stranger, who had refused to give his name, stood beside him, scanning the street with intense focus. His eyes scrutinized every corner, every suspicious movement, his hands grazing the weapons hidden beneath his coat.
— What the hell. Who are you? And why is there a price on my head?
The man, with no regard for Peter's questions, replied:
— You're a time traveler, aren't you?
Peter was stunned. A ton of questions raced through his mind. Who was this person, and how did he know what he was? His interlocutor, seeing his confusion, said:
— Don't worry. First, let me introduce myself. My name is Vincent Destouk, and I'm also a time traveler. Which agency and era are you from?
Peter was completely disoriented. But he didn't have time to dwell on it, because his boss's words came back to him: "Don't worry, another agent was sent before you."
— The year 3025. I'm from TSE.
— I see. So it's that bastard Lorn who sent you. He dumped me here a year ago. I didn't sign up to end up in such a tense situation.
Peter cracked a faint smile. He shared the same opinion about Lorn. The man had a habit of throwing his subordinates into the fire.
— Yes. I'm Peter Haagen. They sent me to support you, he said, standing at attention. But how did you know I was a traveler?
— What kind of question is that! Didn't you take the entry training?
— I did. It was just a reflex. Actually, when someone travels through time, it creates a minor spatial distortion. Anyone nearby who knows the field well can immediately detect the traveler. But it only works within a 1 km radius. Beyond that, nothing…
— Let's not stay here. We could get caught. Follow me quietly. I'll take you to our base.
Vincent took the lead. He headed toward a shuttle parked on a street corner. He pulled out a metal bar and carefully touched it to the shuttle's edge. The doors slid open without a sound. He slipped inside, started the engines, and drove toward Peter.
— What are you waiting for? Get in.
Peter obeyed immediately. He didn't seem shocked by the theft that had just occurred. No doubt he was already used to it. The shuttle drove for over an hour before stopping in a completely deserted area. There was nothing there but dust and completely destroyed buildings. Vincent took the lead again. He entered one of these buildings and stopped in the center. Then, he tapped his foot seven times. Peter didn't even have time to wonder what he was doing before the floor cracked open.