FICTION – 3TC #MM87

Chapter 6:

One Last Leap

The chrono-device vibrated softly in Fiona’s hands, like it had a secret to tell.

It glowed—not in flashes this time, but in steady, rhythmic pulses that matched the cadence of her breath. Blue-white light warmed the bones of her fingers.

The screen read only:
Temporal Window Detected
Friday, 13. Reset.

Fiona stared at it. Her stomach dropped. Again.

“We’re back in range,” she said, voice hushed, reverent.

Elliot stood beside her, damp curls pressed to his forehead. He didn’t ask where—or when—they’d land next. He just met her eyes, the gravity of the moment flickering behind his usually breezy expression.

“Are we ready?” he asked.

She wanted to lie. Wanted to shrug, joke, mask the rising panic the way she always had. But the truth felt louder than usual. Like something long trapped was suddenly allowed to rise to the surface.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “But I’m tired of waiting for everything to make sense before I act. And I’m tired of thinking real things can only happen in safe places.”

Elliot nodded, slowly. “Then let’s jump.”

She reached for his hand.

They pressed the reset button together.

—

The air peeled around them like silk.
Light shattered. Sound vanished. The world spun gently sideways—

And then stopped.

—

Fiona opened her eyes and gasped.

They stood in a room so pristine, it almost didn’t seem real. The walls were curved and white, seamless, like poured milk. The air buzzed faintly, charged, clean, just on the edge of ozone. Somewhere, soft instrumental music played in a scale she couldn’t name.

Outside a wall-sized pane of glass, a city stretched like a dream: silver towers arched into the sky, ribboned with floating platforms and streaks of silent light. Buildings glowed from within like lanterns. There were no wheels, no smoke. No gravity-bound noise.

“Oh,” Fiona whispered. “I think this is… the future.”

Elliot spun slowly, taking it in like a wide-eyed kid at a museum. “Either that, or we got adopted by the Apple Store.”

Fiona laughed before she could stop herself. It sounded too loud in the quiet, like a human voice didn’t quite belong here.

They found a curved bench—soft and warm to the touch, like stone that had learned empathy—and sat down. Outside, a gliding drone zipped past, trailing soft purple light.

Elliot leaned back, knees bouncing. “Do you think we’re… allowed to be here?”

Fiona stared at their warped reflections in the glass. “Does anyone belong anywhere? I mean, really?”

He glanced at her. “That feels like a yes and a no.”

She smiled faintly. “It’s a yes if you’re next to me.”

The hum of the space surrounded them. It didn’t feel sterile anymore—it felt gentle, like the universe was holding its breath.

Fiona shifted to face him, nervous energy rippling beneath her skin.

“I need to say something,” she said. “And this time I’m saying it out loud so I can’t take it back.”

Elliot blinked. “Okay.”

“I want to be with you,” she said, the words trembling as they left. “Not just next to you. Not just in shared proximity because of academic overlap or time travel disasters. I want… us. I want to be chosen. And to choose you.”

The air seemed to shimmer with its weight.

Elliot was quiet, processing. Then:

“You astound me,” he said. “Every time I think I’ve caught up to how smart or strong or out-of-my-league you are, you find a new way to knock me sideways.”

Her cheeks went hot. “That’s a very dramatic compliment.”

He tilted his head. “You kissed me with physics. I think I’m allowed some drama.”

Then, he leaned in and kissed her.

It wasn’t perfect. His glasses bumped her temple, and she accidentally bit his bottom lip. But neither pulled away. It was clumsy and honest and full of all the things they hadn’t let themselves say until now.

When they parted, forehead to forehead, Fiona felt the moment lodge somewhere deep. This—whatever this was—wasn’t theoretical. It wasn’t temporary. It felt inevitable.

The chrono-device buzzed softly.

They looked down. A new prompt blinked on the screen:

RETURN TO ORIGIN?

Fiona turned to Elliot, heartbeat syncing with the pulse of the text.

“What do you think?” she asked.

Elliot slid his fingers between hers.

“I think we’ve got a date to finish,” he said.

They stood. The device warmed in her hand.
And then the light took them home.