The desert night stretched wide and silent beyond Red Mesa, but Elias Thorne could clearly hear the hunt behind him.
Sounds of Boots crushing sand echoed somewhere in the distance.
Voices moved constantly through the darkness.
Flashlights swept across the hills like white blades cutting through the night.
Elias ran until his chest burned.
The rocky slope ahead finally gave him cover. He slid behind a cluster of large desert stones and crouched low, forcing himself to breathe quietly.
His heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might echo across the entire desert.
He slowly looked back toward the crash site.
From this distance the floodlights looked like artificial moons glowing in the sand. The black vehicles had gathered near the wreckage, and soldiers moved in tight groups around the perimeter.
Then another vehicle arrived.
This one was different.
Long.
Black.
Smooth like polished glass.
It rolled to a stop near the center of the crash zone.
The doors opened slowly.
A man stepped out.
Even from far away, Elias could tell he was important.
The soldiers straightened immediately.
The agents in the dark coats stepped aside.
The man moved calmly through the wreckage like he had already seen it all before.
He looked to be in his early fifties. Tall. Thin. His dark coat moved slightly in the desert wind.
Everything about him was controlled.
Precise.
This was not someone who reacted to chaos.
This was someone who expected it.
One of the agents approached him.
"Director Vane," the agent said.
So that was his name.
Director Vane.
The man looked down briefly at one of the Chronite fragments lying in the sand.
His eyes studied the glowing crystal carefully.
"Confirm the anomaly," Vane said.
Another agent stepped forward holding a scanning device similar to the one Elias had seen earlier.
The scanner emitted several rapid pulses.
A few seconds passed.
Then the agent nodded.
"Confirmed. Temporal debris consistent with Echo-class artifacts."
Vane folded his hands behind his back and looked toward the desert horizon.
"Was anyone exposed?"
The agents exchanged glances.
"Yes, sir."
"How many?"
"Unknown. But we detected a Sync signature."
Vane's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Already?"
"Yes, sir."
"Location?"
The agent pointed toward the hills where Elias was hiding.
"Signal moved east approximately five minutes ago."
Vane remained silent for a moment.
Then he spoke.
"Alive," he said calmly.
The agents looked at him.
"I want the subject captured alive."
"Yes, sir."
Vane glanced down again at the Chronite fragments.
His expression showed mild interest.
"Chronite exposure has synchronized the subject's neural patterns," he said.
The agents listened carefully.
"If the brain survived the initial contact, we may be dealing with a viable Sync."
The word again.
Sync.
Vane turned toward the tactical vehicles parked near the wreckage.
"Deploy the recovery team."
"Yes, Director."
Within seconds, several soldiers began preparing equipment.
Black armored suits.
Helmet scanners.
Compact rifles.
They moved like a unit that had done this many times before.
Elias watched all of it from his hiding spot.
He didn't understand most of what they were saying.
But he understood enough to understand one thing.
They were hunting him.
And for some reason they wanted him alive.
That somehow felt way worse than being dead.
⸻
Elias waited another minute before moving again.
He kept low as he crossed the rocky hillside.
The desert stretched endlessly around him, lit only by moonlight and distant highway lights.
His truck was still parked near the road, but getting back there now would be simply impossible. And definitely suicide.
Too exposed.
He needed somewhere else to hide.
The small handheld device rested in his pocket.
The Chronite crystal pulsed faintly beside it.
He pulled the device out while walking.
The screen flickered to life again.
More symbols appeared.
But now they were easier to understand.
Like his brain was adjusting to them.
One word appeared again.
SYNC DETECTED
"Yeah," Elias muttered quietly. "I figured that much."
Another line appeared.
TEMPORAL RESONANCE: ACTIVE
"What does that even mean…"
Suddenly the device flickered.
A faint vibration ran through it.
Elias stopped walking.
Something felt strange.
Not dangerous.
Just… different.
He reached down and picked up a small rock from the desert ground.
The moment his fingers touched it—
The vision hit him.
Hard.
His mind filled with images.
The rock sat on the desert floor.
Wind slowly pushed sand over it.
Years passed.
Decades.
The rock cracked in half under heat and pressure.
Then centuries moved by.
The desert shifted.
Cities appeared in the distance.
Massive towers made of glowing metal rose across the horizon.
Vehicles flew through the air above them.
The rock was now part of a construction site.
Machines crushed it into smaller fragments.
Those fragments were melted down and reshaped into building material.
Then the vision jumped forward again.
Thousands of years passed.
The city collapsed.
The desert returned.
The rock fragments scattered across the sand once more.
The vision ended.
Elias dropped the rock immediately.
"What the hell…"
He stepped back, breathing fast.
It wasn't just the satellite anymore.
It was everything.
Anything he touched now showed him glimpses of its future.
Or its timeline.
Or something like that. He wasn't sure
Footsteps echoed suddenly from the ridge above him.
Elias froze.
Flashlight beams swept across the rocks nearby.
"Spread out," someone shouted.
"Tactical grid formation."
The hunting team had reached the hills.
Elias quickly slipped behind another large rock formation and crouched low.
The agents moved carefully across the terrain.
Their helmets had faint red lights blinking across the sides.
Scanning equipment.
They were searching for him.
One of the agents spoke quietly into a radio.
"Thermal sweep negative."
Another voice responded.
"Temporal scanner still active."
Elias slowly backed away.
But his foot hit a loose stone.
It rolled down the slope.
One of the agents turned instantly.
"Movement."
Flashlights snapped toward Elias' direction.
"Target located!"
Elias didn't hesitate.
He ran for dear life.
Rocks shifted under his boots as he sprinted downhill toward the open desert.
Gunshots cracked through the air behind him.
Bright blue energy rounds struck the ground nearby, sending sparks into the sand.
"Do not kill the target!" someone shouted.
"Director's orders!"
That didn't make Elias feel much safer.
He ran harder.
The desert opened wide in front of him.
No cover.
No buildings.
Just miles of empty land.
Behind him the agents continued their pursuit.
Their boots moved fast.
Too fast.
These weren't normal soldiers.
Elias reached into his pocket while running.
The handheld device was still there.
He pressed the button again.
The world slowed.
Everything stretched.
The agents' movements became sluggish.
Their voices dragged like slow echoes.
Elias pushed forward through the slowed moment.
His legs felt heavy but the agents behind him were moving even slower.
He gained distance quickly.
The device beeped again.
Time snapped back to normal.
But the distance he had created remained.
The agents stopped briefly.
One of them spoke into the radio again.
"Subject displaying advanced Sync behavior."
"Temporal manipulation confirmed."
The radio crackled.
Then Director Vane's voice responded calmly.
"Continue pursuit."
"Do not engage lethally."
"Yes, sir."
Elias kept running.
His lungs burned now.
But the strange visions hadn't stopped.
As he brushed past a metal road sign near the highway—
Another vision flashed.
The sign rusted over time.
Collapsed.
Then the highway became something else entirely.
A massive elevated transit route with glowing vehicles racing across it.
Then even that disappeared.
The desert reclaimed everything.
Elias shook his head.
"Focus," he whispered to himself.
The town lights of Red Mesa appeared ahead.
He might lose them in the streets.
If he could just reach the town.
Behind him, the hunt continued.
And miles away, standing calmly beside the wreckage in the desert, Director Vane watched the horizon.
One of the agents approached him.
"Subject has escaped the initial perimeter."
Vane nodded slowly.
"Expected."
"You're not concerned?"
Vane looked down at one of the Chronite fragments again.
The crystal glowed softly.
"On the contrary," he said quietly.
"This is exactly what we hoped for."
The agent frowned.
"Sir?"
Vane looked toward the distant town lights.
"Chronite does not choose randomly," he said.
"If the subject synchronized successfully… then his mind is compatible with the Echo field."
He paused.
"That makes him extremely valuable."
The agent nodded slowly.
"What are your orders?"
Vane smiled faintly.
"Let him run."
The agent looked confused.
Vane turned toward the transport trucks.
"He cannot escape what he has already become."
The Chronite fragment pulsed once in his hand.
"Track him," Vane said.
"And when the time comes…"
His voice became colder.
"Bring me the Sync."