Marcus had spent his life studying Haka in history books, and in his position as her guard to better protect and serve her. She knew nothing of him and begged with little frowns, trembling lower lip, and wrinkled sniffles of her nose to hear every moment of his life that he could remember. Her convalescence was spent regaled with tales of boyhood pranks, dates that had gone wrong, and life in an ordinary family. A life, full of love, humor, and loss.

Food came, and the remnants of meals were taken away. A lavatory was hidden behind one of the walls. Though Marcus was willing to bet good money that it had just grown there to accommodate their needs. When he could no longer keep his eyes open his inorganic would roll and stretch into a bed just beside Haka’s, allowing them to hold hands while drifting off to sleep. No matter how hard he tried it would not let them close enough to cuddle and would roll the two apart when he tried. But hey, they were kids. It didn’t matter all that much and the room was never too cold nor too warm.

Time passed. How much? Was it normal speed? Did they age? Those were questions The Voice that came from the ceiling would not or could not answer. Haka got better though. She insisted that her healing was fine, but there was a hesitation, a quaver in her voice that made him wonder if it was. And she sat. A lot. Walking was too much exertion for her.

To pass the time, when they couldn’t utter another word, they would read the archives of information about the Chronos Vault. There were many things they couldn’t access. Anything historical seemed almost entirely off-limits. Neither Haka nor Marcus rated the rank of Time Keeper, whatever that was, and therefore were not allowed to see information which, since this place existed outside of the current universe, might allow them to alter history. The Voice was quite adamant that the course of history had to play out correctly to ‘maintain chronological cohesion’.

However, the base information was completely fine. Looking up who won the 3549 Olympics on Helios Nine; forbidden. Because who wouldn’t want to know how the last Olympics went? Learning how to blow up a sun with a gravitation cannon? Totally legit reading material. Any technical sciency thing he wanted to know about anything he could learn, as long as it wasn’t history. Haka seemed to have more access at first. Then their inorganic hosts realized that everything she knew she would share with him and that clamped the lid down tight on the knowledge well.

Then one brighter-period-that-he-refused-to-call-day-because-the-base-had-no-proper-night, Marcus stumbled across a mention of cryogenics. His people had never really mastered it but other races in the Chaos universe had. Or thought they had at least. But there were cryogenic facilities in the base and he remembered that Haka had told him that there were stasis chambers on the Ark’s.

Why would they use a stasis chamber though? They would still be children. Now both physically five, but with full access to their lifetime of memories. It was creepy. That was all he had to say on the matter and avoided looking at himself in the few rare instances that reflective surfaces occurred. The former guard had worked hard for his scars and muscles and kind of missed them. Except for that tattoo his buddies had talked him into getting to celebrate graduation from basic training. That he did not miss.

The future loomed, quite literally, in the future. Every he-still-wouldn’t-call-them-days, Haka grew stronger. What was the point of it if they stayed here? Just the two of them outside of time. If they did age, they couldn’t have children all alone here. Well, they could…but then they’d need to find people to keep their kids company before they died. Or set out into unknown territory with children. He wasn’t even a parent yet and Marcus already knew he wasn’t going to put himself through that kind of stress.

They needed to decide if they were going to stay or if they were going to go. As much as he didn’t mind staying…there was still the fact that no matter how self-sufficient The Chronos Vault was, they were the only two people in it as far as they knew. After discussing it at length. In hushed whispered tones, of course, so as not to hurt the non-existent feelings of the inorganic semi-sentients. A decision was made. They would go.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Hundreds of doors like the one they entered through were placed regularly around the facility. Each led to a different world. Some to different realities, not just different planes of existence. Many were closed forever. Some led to lush planets and some led to uninhabitable places, the planets on the other side of them dead and incapable of supporting life. For once Semi, as Marcus had fondly come to refer to the disembodied voice which controlled all the inorganics of Chronos Vault, was helpful in a historical way.

He (because Marcus was also morally certain that only a man could be as much of an obtuse prick as Semi was) had provided the pair of children with a world that was unoccupied at the current time on the outside, but which would have other sentient and friendly life in a few hundred years. Spacefaring technologically advanced humans which the two could easily quietly integrate themselves into.

Cryostasis was their viable option at that point. Semi would not let the pair access the time-traveling features of The Chronos Vault. Marcus insisted that they test it first. Short little naps to see if it worked properly before going in for the long sleep. A minute. Then two. Then five. Then ten. An hour. A day. And so it went. Gradually increasing his confidence that the long nap would be safe. Haka seemed unreasonably trusting of the technology. For Marcus, it was definitely a challenge to blindly accept on faith that it was safe.

Eventually came the he-still-wouldn’t-call-them-days-if-he-couldn’t-see-the/a-sun when it was time for the long sleep. When they woke from this nap it would be centuries into an alien future. Though Haka had been adamant that it was safe, she was the one who balked. They stood there, two children hand in hand facing the stasis chambers which had become so familiar. Haka’s fingers pale even against Marcus’ unidentifiable ethnicity which resulted in something between healthy-tan and weak-tea.

“Maybe we shouldn’t?” Marcus’ head snapped around to pin Haka with a brief glare of disbelief.

“You say that now?” A short eye roll that would have been uncharacteristic of a child his age if one didn’t know better caused the girl to give him a sarcastic snobby twist of her face.

“You’re the one who made me uncertain with all your doomsaying.” Fear caused her mimicry of him to be more petulant than he had been. “Oh no! What if we can’t handle the grownups of the future?” Her hands waved briefly before landing across her chest, an eyebrow raised in challenge.

“Touché.” A sheepish blush joined Marcus’ grin of acknowledgment. “I was…uncertain…”

“Marcus.” Semi’s disembodied voice now chimed in with his two cents.

“As I have informed you multiple times Marcus, the cryostasis chambers equipped in this facility are completely safe. You will sleep with no awareness of time passing and will wake as if from a restorative nap.” It was the same thing with every repetition and Marcus had now mastered the intonation completely. “However, if you should choose not to continue with your decided course of action you will continue to be welcome in this facility indefinitely.” That last, part, that was new.

“Aw…you going to miss us Semi?” Cocking his head as he spoke to the semi-sentient control system Marcus looked up at the corner of the ceiling where he believed the sound was coming from.

“The facility will continue to function whether you are here or not. Programming does not allow for the emotions which you attempt to attribute.” It was a Semi answer. Denial of any true sentience.

“That’s fine Semi.” With a sigh, he coaxed Haka’s hand back into his. “If you change your mind, we can stay in the here and now. I don’t mind.”

“No.” Haka took in her own deep steadying breath. “Let’s do this. “We can’t live alone forever and because of Semi’s programming about muddying the timeline…” She waved a frustrated arm in an arc meant to encompass the entirety of the facility. “…the only time and place we know for certain we won’t upset the spacetime continuum is the one plotted out for us.”

“Let’s do this then.” Together they advanced on the stasis capsules, unfortunately not a more complex version of the inorganic semi-sentients which had been tending to them during their waking hours. Sleek ovoid forms with windows in the front of auto-adjusting opacity. Turning around, they both took each other’s hands one last time before leaning back into the front windows of their chambers and falling gradually through into the seats.

Marcus tried to see Haka but as always, once he was in the stasis chamber the sides enveloped him blocking any view of her. Sadly, he reached for her, hand resting on the surface closest to her. In her own cryostasis chamber, Haka did the same thing. She didn’t know if he was returning the gesture, she’d made a great effort not to eavesdrop on his mind. The last two infinitesimal remnants of the great Alluran Imperium, she didn’t want to know the thoughts of the only person who mattered to her anymore.

Their views clouded over. The entry ports simultaneously lost transparency as the air in their respective pods thickened and clouded. Soon the chemicals had put them to sleep, and then their time stopped.