You sit in silence. Not thinking, not wondering, just total silence. Your neck cranes to see the open door you came in. You can almost see out the hall where Roland said that ICARUS machine would be. You stand up, walking out of the door like you’re in a dream. Everything feels fifty pounds lighter. You step outside of the door and look down the hall—it is barren except for a lone metal door at the end. Human sized, no less.

You take a deep breath and bring your arm up to the handle, hesitating slightly as you press against the cold metal. The handle shakes in your hands and you let it go, throwing yourself against the wall and shouting out. “No! God damn it! Damn it!” You slam your fist against the wall. “You give me a way home finally, and you tell me that I’ll be ruining all of time if I take it?!” You scream so loud it hurts your throat. “Fuck you Roland! Fuck you!” You slam your fist again, wiping away a stray tear.

You throw open the door and find the cylindrical chamber that houses ICARUS, it’s a massive behemoth of a machine, cords that extend higher than any ceiling you’ve ever known. It’s got a touch pad interface on the front of it and large cables that run off to a room just behind it. You walk up to the machine and press your finger on the screen, hearing Roland’s words echo in your mind.

...but I ask that you make a choice that you’re proud of.

Proud of.

Your hand trembles, until finally you fall to your knees and cry. It comes out in spurts at first but then evolves to a full out bawl. “I hate everything. I hate myself, is that what you want to hear?! I hate it! Hate what I did!”

A decision you can be proud of.

You sit with your back against ICARUS, wiping your eyes with your sleeve. You blubber out a sort of half-sneeze-cough hybrid and you look up towards the infinitesimal ceiling. “Do your thing, Roland. I won’t stop you. I’ll stay...I’ll make you proud. I’ll make me...proud.”

You stand to your feet and walk out the door, closing it for good on ICARUS. Stepping back into the computer room you notice that the tablet has gone missing. You remember setting it down on the desk right in front of the monitor, but there it remains no longer. You see the video prompt has been closed out as well. You remember that there were other files on the computer! It would have bugged you to no end if you left without checking those.

You click on Instructions.txt and another window opens up, showing a dedicated schedule. It is full of different exercises with explicit instructions how to perform each one. Scrolling down you see a bunch of directions for brain puzzles. It almost looks like the schedule that Roland might have followed, he did mention he was here training for seven whole years, which would explain his disappearance back on Sayar. Because you’re not on Sayar anymore, at least for right now. You close out of the window and move on next to Journal.txt. It looks like Roland kept a personal log of each time he exercised and trained with that bird-fellow. He must have been just as unsure about this whole thing as you are. He was a commander at war, sure, but he didn’t know anything about time travel. It makes you appreciate the smile in the video a little bit more.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Closing out the journal you open the program of most intrigue, the soldier database. Your fingers move automatically, searching through the listings.

Soldier 001: Roland Duschand

Rank: Commander

Specialty: Reconnaissance

Height: 1.8 m

Weight: 86.1 kg

You scroll down and see entries for Barax and Tania, the Garexian and Illith you remember seeing in that memory. Number four is a name you don’t recognize, and then a horrible feeling in your stomach forms when you guess which name is placed at number five.

Soldier 005: Jesse Anderson

Rank: Private

Specialty: Speed Arts

Height: 1.87 m

Weight: 81.64 kg

Jesse is Five.

You find yourself on the ground, not realizing how you got there. You must have fallen—everything feels faint as the words run across your face like Olympic athletes. His face flashes in front of your vision and you feel a strong sickness flow through your body.

"If I'm being wholly honest with you, that's the main reason why I decided to help you, back when we first met."

"You say that as if we've known each other for a life time."

"It can certainly feel like that sometimes."

"I'll be honest too and say that I've found it easy to connect with you too, and that all means so much in a time like this."

"That is understandable as well. I hope you forgive my needing to protect you, that's something that I feel that was left over from another life entirely."

Another life entirely indeed. You make a move to stand up.

“As it turns out it seems someone on our end went and beat us to the punch—Mr. Marshall is in our time, but without knowing who it is we have little chance of doing anything about it.”

But just how long had Mr. Marshall been on Sayar? Was it before the accident...or after? Does it change who Mr. Marshall is as a person? No, not really. He’s still the last person you ever wanted to see, after yourself of course. But Jesse is the person you want so see most your one friend through this whole ordeal, this whole shit-show..but then again, that’s what you probably would have said back then, right?

No, you need to focus. You can confront Jesse when you see him next. Roland mentioned that someone would be arriving in this bunker...but how? The entire place was sealed off the last you checked. The door in front of you opens slightly and you freeze up, instantly looking toward it. The door inches opening, pushed only by the golden plumes you recognize from your prison. All at once the left wing begins glowing with a white light and begins shifting shape. The golden bird steps fully into the room and shifts its form into a sight more familiar.

It is a young man, he looks to be in his early twenties. A head full of dirty blond hair kept scruffy. He’s standing with his hand on his side and looking out with a dutiful sort of smile. “So, you’re the legendary Devon Campton. I must say, I have been waiting to meet you for a very long time.” He then flashes a bright smile and cocks his head.