The facility didn't feel the same anymore.
It wasn't something Elias could point at directly. Nothing obvious had changed. The white walls were still spotless. The corridors still hummed quietly with hidden machinery. Scientists still walked past with tablets in their hands, speaking in low, controlled voices like nothing in the world could surprise them.
But beneath all of that something felt wrong.
Elias noticed it first in the silence.
Not the normal kind of silence. Not the calm, organized quiet of a research facility. This was heavier. Like something was being buried beneath it. Like the walls themselves were hiding something they weren't supposed to.
He stood alone in one of the observation corridors, staring down through a reinforced glass panel into a lower chamber.
Another Sync sat inside.
A boy this time. Couldn't have been older than sixteen.
He was strapped into a reclining chair surrounded by circular machines that pulsed faint blue light in steady intervals. Tubes ran from the equipment into his arms. Sensors were attached to his temples. His breathing was uneven.
Elias frowned.
This wasn't training.
This wasn't observation.
This looked like something else entirely.
A scientist standing nearby adjusted something on a console. The machines around the boy responded immediately. The light intensified. The hum deepened.
The boy's body jerked violently.
Elias stiffened.
"Hey…" he muttered under his breath.
The boy's hands clenched. His head tilted back as if something inside him was pulling him apart.
Then Elias saw it.
The skin on the boy's arm.
Wrinkling.
Not slowly.
Not naturally.
Rapidly.
Like time itself had grabbed hold of him and pushed forward without mercy.
Elias' stomach dropped.
"No…"
The boy gasped. His chest rose sharply, then dropped. His breathing grew shallow. The machines pulsed faster now, feeding something into him… or pulling something out.
Elias turned sharply and pushed through the door into the lower chamber.
"Stop it!"
The scientists barely looked at him.
"Subject stability is within projected parameters," one of them said calmly.
"Projected… are you blind?!" Elias snapped, stepping closer to the chair.
The boy's face had changed.
Aged.
Not completelybut enough to see it. Enough to know what was happening.
"This isn't testing," Elias said, his voice lower now. "This is killing him."
One of the scientists finally looked at him.
"No," she said flatly. "This is progress."
Elias stared at her like he hadn't heard correctly.
"Progress?"
She gestured toward the machines.
"Chrono-resonance extraction," she explained. "We are isolating the Sync response and mapping its structure."
Elias shook his head slowly.
"You're draining him."
"We're studying him."
"He's dying."
She didn't respond to that.
Because she didn't need to.
They both knew it was true.
Elias looked back at the boy. His movements were weaker now. Slower. Like his body was running out of time faster than it could keep up.
"Shut it down," Elias said.
"No."
The answer came from behind him.
Elias turned.
Sola stood in the doorway.
Her expression was calm.
Too calm.
Elias felt something shift inside him.
"You knew," he said quietly.
Sola didn't answer immediately. She stepped into the room slowly, her eyes moving briefly to the boy in the chair before returning to Elias.
"This is necessary," she said.
Elias let out a hollow laugh.
"Necessary?"
The word felt disgusting in his mouth.
"They're killing people."
"They're trying to save billions."
Elias shook his head harder now.
"No. No, don't do that. Don't try to justify this."
Sola stepped closer.
"The Lapse is spreading," she said. "You've seen it yourself. Echo zones are increasing. The timeline is destabilizing."
"And your solution is this?" Elias shot back, gesturing at the boy.
"Yes."
The answer came without hesitation.
That hurt more than anything else.
Elias stared at her.
"You're serious."
Sola held his gaze.
"I helped design this program," she said.
The words landed heavy.
Elias blinked once.
Then again.
"You… what?"
"The Aegis believes Syncs are the bridge between timelines," she continued. "If we can understand that bridge or control it, we can sever the connection completely."
Elias felt his chest tighten.
"Sever it…"
Sola nodded slightly.
"End the Lapse."
"And the Syncs?" Elias asked quietly.
Sola didn't answer.
She didn't need to.
Elias looked back at the boy again.
The machines pulsed.
The boy's body went still.
Too still.
A long, empty silence filled the room.
Then one of the monitors flatlined.
A single sharp tone cut through the air.
Elias closed his eyes briefly.
When he opened them again, something in him had changed.
Not fear.
Not confusion.
Clarity.
"They're not trying to cure this," he said slowly. "They're trying to erase it."
Sola didn't deny it.
"They believe it's the only way."
Elias turned toward her fully now.
"And you?"
Another pause.
This one longer.
"I believed it too," she said.
Elias studied her face.
Looking for something.
Regret.
Guilt.
Anything.
But Sola's expression remained controlled.
Measured.
Like she had already gone through this conflict long before he ever arrived.
"That's why you found me," Elias said.
Sola didn't respond.
"You weren't trying to help me," he continued. "You were bringing me here."
Still nothing.
Elias let out a slow breath.
"I was just another test."
"No," Sola said quietly.
That made him pause.
She stepped closer.
"You're different."
Elias frowned.
"I've heard that before."
"You shouldn't exist," she said again. "Not the way you do."
Elias shook his head.
"Yeah. That line is getting old."
But Sola didn't react.
"Your synchronization is too stable," she continued. "Your abilities are evolving faster than any recorded Sync."
Elias looked at her carefully.
"And that makes me what?"
Sola held his gaze.
"A solution."
Elias laughed again.
But this time there was no humor in it.
"Or a weapon."
Sola didn't deny that either.
Silence stretched between them.
Then Elias stepped back.
Decision made.
"I'm done," he said.
Sola's expression shifted slightly.
"Elias…"
"No." He shook his head firmly. "Whatever this is… whatever you're trying to do… I'm not part of it."
"You don't understand the scale of what's coming."
"Maybe not," he said. "But I understand this."
He gestured toward the lifeless body in the chair.
"And I'm not becoming that."
Sola stepped forward.
"If you leave, they will hunt you."
Elias met her eyes.
"They already are."
That stopped her.
For just a second.
Then she said quietly,
"And if the Lapse continues… your sister may be lost forever."
That hit.
Hard.
Elias clenched his jaw.
But he didn't back down.
"Then I'll find her myself."
Sola studied him carefully.
Like she was trying to decide something.
Then she stepped aside.
Just enough to clear the doorway.
Elias noticed.
"You're letting me go?"
Sola didn't look at him.
"Not everything I did here was right," she said quietly.
Elias didn't respond.
Because there was nothing to say to that.
He turned and walked toward the exit.
Every step felt heavier than the last.
Not because he was unsure.
But because now.
He finally understood the truth.
The Aegis wasn't here to save people.
They were here to choose who deserved to exist in the new world.
And Elias had just chosen his side.
Behind him, the machines powered down.
The facility continued like nothing had happened.
But everything had changed.
And somewhere beyond the walls
The Lapse was still spreading.