The Time Stone, Third Edition (Extended Version)

Time: 2092 A.D., Lightning Way (Formerly Chronix Bay)

The dark skies over the fallen landscapes and burned towers were a cross between blood red and black Succoth. The roar of the temporal wormhole appeared and disappeared just as quickly leaving the four travelers in the midst of a doomed society where loud booms of thunder permeated the air above smelling like smoke and brimstone further filling the air below. A large looming tower complex stretches over the skyline in the distance, damaged and decayed, the charred remains of a long lost civilization of high tech marvels and stellar sky roadways. No signs of foliage or wildlife exist, only sullen darkness.

“Something bad happened here.” says Mercedes.

“I got a bad feeling over all.” says James. “Where are we?”

“Home, this is Chronix Bay” says Drax holding his handheld scanner. “I turned my scanner to pick up tachyon emission frequencies. Sort of like a time travel pocket guide now.”

“This doesn’t look like Chronix Bay” says Tina as she almost sighed that they were home, but they weren’t.

“It is Chronix Bay, circa 2092 AD.” Drax says.

“The future?” asks Mercedes.

“The Time Stone stopped glowing guys,” says James, holding it out and turning it, but nothing happened and the five orbs within it remained dull and turned off.

“Great Caesars Ghost!” the four exclaim virtually simultaneously, alone in the vast ruins of their city’s future.

The immense desolation of this future Time is measured in the small yet bustling community of Kawanbi in Chronix Bay, The Broken Earth and Sky, as it reads on a faded sign that occupied a large field outside of the small town. There were electric diodes that once illuminated the sign having long since died out. The town is surrounded by an encampment of tents and small shacks built as temporary shelter by inhabitants. The earth lay barren and fruitless devoid of natural vegetation or plant life and black as pitch. A small group gathers around one of the larger tents on the outskirts of the shanty town and holds a small town hall meeting.

“We need to enforce stronger limits on our aqueduct use. The reserves of water and fuel are running dangerously low. In a short while we will be completely helpless.” says a young man with rimmed glasses and curly hair, his clothes loose and baggy, a tattered overcoat, and small red bowtie.

“Thank you, Mr. Daniels.” says a middle-aged woman holding a hammer and wearing a long gown with her hair knotted up in a bun, she banged the hammer on a table when others started to converse amongst themselves expressing their respective opinions on the matter.

“Enough!” she yells. “This meeting is adjourned for now. We will reconvene at the same time tomorrow.” She looks sternly at the many that sucked their teeth and muttered words like “favoritism” and “corrupt” under their breaths. They began to scatter back to their respective tents and shacks, though some wandered off towards the outer areas of desolate burned remains of old structures and buildings. No one went to an area marked off with tape, which resembled an old growth forest yards away, but with no leaves and the barks were burnt and ashen. This area is carefully labeled forbidden territory.

A few meters away, there was a loud bustle in a small hut different from the others, made of straw and clay, like a medieval dwelling. A young lady with bright yellow hair stands outside sweeping the ground, her blue eyes tired and defeated, and with black and blue bruises on her face. She is desperately trying to keep the loathsome flowing mud waters from entering the house, her long gown drenched from the bottom up after she has been at the task for several moments.

“Honey, come back in. It’s after curfew, and we better get some rest, to be ready for tomorrow’s meetings,” yells a strong voice from within, echoing with a rugged masculinity. Out came Daryl Wutherford Haverstraw, whose physique was composed of a strong upper body, cunning prowess in his sharp eyes, jet black hair, and a beard like a woodsman. He was wearing a large heavy well-tailored overcoat with long tails and macramé buttons adorned in gold lining. He stands with his fists at his side, ready to stand guard as master of the house. “What brings the late wind?” He asks.

“Trying to stop our home from being flooded, but you wouldn’t care, always off on your witch hunt excursions.” She replies, trying to sweep away the mud.

“Do not talk back to me with that tone Vanessa. Have you forgotten who the master of this house is?” He yells. “Come inside now.”

Vanessa sighed and dropped the broomstick to the side as she went in, followed by her husband. As the door closed behind them, the muddy waters started to slowly seep in again.

The next morning the sun veered over the darkness of the shanty town as the skies were a mix of black and blue, darker in some areas than others, but brighter over most areas above. The ground is barren and sullen without a single crop and Mud Rivers flowed throughout the land and various homes. The home of Mr. and Mrs. Haverstraw lay crumbled in ruins and the couple barely escaping is seeking refuge in the larger central encampment nearby with a red banner fluttering overhead; the center of the banner has an emblem of a dark feathered face with pale eyes. The encampment consisted of several rooms and hallways under a large group of tents which were under a domed greenhouse-like superstructure colored in crystalline splendor, subtly shining with the faint sunlight above them, and sprinkling it down in various directions lighting the entire complex. There was movement of people dressed in rags and dirt-covered gowns travelling about on dirt paths in the small tent city, hauling carts of whatever food and water supplies were available. There was a large square table resting in the distance towards the back areas, where there lay a map of the area and two people standing in the midst of a detailed conversation. General Maxwell Sharpe, an elderly gentleman with pure white hair and a stern grit, hid by a curious smile that made him seem almost childlike, as he donned his highly decorated uniform from his time with the old army and puffed his hand rolled cigar before Alana Wilcox, a petite young woman in her mid-thirties with short chestnut blonde hair and a tough grit, she donned her leather jacket and flight pants with wings and the initials “AE” admiring her hero Amelia Earhart, a famous female pilot from the past.

“You sure got some cojones young lady. I don’t think we have the fight or the will for that type of a maneuver,” says the General.

“But it is our only way after all and we can do it if we ration our men and firepower. We can’t live like this, like slaves and peasants in a forgotten world forever. Look at the stats,” she pointed to a stack of loose papers printouts on the table and the map underneath it. “There are U.R.O forces all over the western perimeter and near the dry rivers all the way down to the dark forests. If we don’t take action soon we’re dead. We lost eleven more battalions this week. We are being slaughtered, no, exterminated because we’re different. We don’t believe what they do. We need to start taking control of our own destinies and fighting for what we are entitled to, otherwise what’s the point? We might as well lie down and dig our own plots. I refuse to give up, not while I still have breath in my body.”

“Well,” says the General in his deep southern accent with a heavy sigh after puffing his cigar “I can’t believe that we even got a snowball’s chance in hell, kiddo… We can’t attract Union troops to this cause if there is no chance of winning.”

“Even if the Union could be next, our little rebellion may not be much to you, but it is a lot to us. We always were at odds politically, General, but we need your help or we’re goners.” He looks into her somber eyes with a heavy lament.

“I think you kids got gumption and I still think it’s too much to convince my superiors completely to invest, but if you put your heart and faith into it then I can too.”

“Thanks,” she smiles in return to his warming grin.

“I was just telling Marsha the other day how much of a beautiful, courageous, daring, and independent young woman you turned out to be.”

“Aw, you’re making me blush. You always were like an uncle to me when I was coming up.”

“Only reason is because of your dad, I miss him sometimes, he saved my life in the great conflict, and he was a great friend and great person.”

“I know,” she smiles.

“He would have been proud of you just as I am.” They embraced briefly.“Ready the men” he smirks “I will let my superiors at Union HQ know we got a rebellion to reconsider.”

Meanwhile, far above their small shanty town, in the high peaks of the city center where the old Chronix Bay once stood, the tall ominous citadel historically occupied by dark forces now is occupied by even darker and more sinister beings that dwell within it. The towers are purely dark, unlit, with faded greenery and moss having once grown on it, but decayed to a black texture permanently caked onto the stonework. The entire structure loomed and overshadowed the miles of wetland desert below. Within the central citadel, the red room that was once lit up with swirling rainbow lights is now a hollow shell of darkness but still embodies the epitome of corruption and evil. A teenage boy sits on the steps leading up to an empty platform level with the charred remains of a single chair, his hands cupping his face in sorrow. He brushes his fair hair to the side and looks over at the window ledges where it is dark outside even in the middle of the day, black and blue colors battling in the atmosphere under the piercing light energy of the sun. “How did it get so bad?” He wondered as he loved reading history and thinking about things, and the way that they might have been before the great conflict, but there is little that remains to be discussed about those days.

“Reginald,” calls an elderly man’s voice in the distance, approaching the younger man. The voice repeated the name over and over again as it became louder and louder. The young man ignores it and keeps looking outside of the window, daydreaming of better worlds. He envisioned a perfect paradise, a utopian city with glistening towers and skyways that reached into the far reaches of the universe and back again. Where peace, love, hope, tolerance, equality, and brotherhood dominated over everything, he sits fixated on that moment when he is interrupted, and quickly opens his eyes to the stern look of his great uncle and teacher, Dr. Walliford Ordox, whose wrinkled face and long white hair along with his strong demeanor showed that he is serious and angry. He grunted as he crossed arms that were hidden by the long sleeves of his gown which flows down to the ground making him appear royal. Reginald gulped in fear as his visions of utopian cities quickly faded and the routine grueling existence of his daily studies and chores is back in the forefront of his mind.

“Yes Uncle.” he muttered under his breath as he got up and ran off towards his quarters without the elder having to say a word, as they have been in this situation multiple times already.

“It seems that boy won’t ever really learn.” Dr. Ordox shakes his head.

“He is not the only one who needs a lesson,” says a dark crinkly voice behind him.

“Oh my” turns Dr. Ordox and looks into the darkness, a pair of red eyes looking back at him squinting, the form of a man hidden to him in pure shadow, the head of the form appearing feathered with small horns.

“This entire world needs a lesson and soon will have it. The day of reckoning is upon us.”

“Yes my lordship. It shall be.” says Dr. Ordox bowing his hand with sincerity and fear.

“But there is something else that must be done.” The shadow speaks.

“What is that my lord?” Dr. Ordox asks.

“A great disturbance is amongst us, one I have not felt in a very, very long time.” The shadow recalled. “A temporal energy is nearby.”

“Whatever it is lord, we will destroy it.” Dr. Ordox insisted.

“Make sure it is done. The future of the power of the triad depends on it.” His form fizzled into nothingness and his red eyes dimmed away.

“Oh boy” says Dr. Ordox to himself as he walks out quickly knowing who he has to find.

The foursome, James, Tina, Mercedes, and Drax wandered through the dirt roads surrounding the muddy waters towards the central encampment of the shanty town.

“So why did we wind up here? I thought we were going to go back to our own time” says Tina.

“I know it looks like we overshot the mark by about a century or so, but can’t figure out why” says Drax.

“Maybe we didn’t think hard enough in the vacuum,” joked Tina.

“Hardly amusing.” says Drax.

“What do you suppose happened to this town?” asks Mercedes.

“It seems that the increase in domestic generated pollutants have caused a cloud of darkness to permeate the atmosphere” says Drax walking with his hand held scanner. “I am picking up an increase of carbon monoxide emissions in the air. This is poison, but it’s high enough that it isn’t enough to kill us here and now, but it is spreading, so in another hundred years I think it will be a different story.”

“It’s dark during the day” says Tina.

“It’s the carbon in the air blocking part of the sunlight. I doubt this place can support even the basic crops of agriculture. The amount of time the carbon emissions has been growing in the air has made the soil barren and the Earth dull” explained Mercedes.

“What could have done this?” asks James.

“Centuries of increased carbon-based byproducts being pushed into the air,” replies Mercedes. “I worked with groups trying to combat the problem back home, but it kept getting worse every year. I guess this is the end result taken to the extreme.”

“Global Warming at its finest” says Tina.

“What is that over there?” asks James pointing.

“A town,” replies Tina, “not much of one.”

“Let’s go check it out,” says Drax. “We need to find out as much information as we can here so we can be sure to get back home when the Time Stone recharges.”

“How does it do that?” asks James.

“Solar energy, the Time Stone gets its energy from the stars themselves and it can also destroy one.”

“Wow” says James. The foursome walks into the central square of the town being eyed by the locals curiously.

“I think we need to get some new clothes” Mercedes says.

“Yeah, I just realized we were wearing the same clothes since the last Time we were in,” says Drax. “Let’s see what we can dredge up.”

“Don’t think there is an open Bloomingdales around here” laughs Tina.

“Hmmm” says Drax as he noticed a beautiful petite young woman with short hair wearing a leather jacket approach them.

“Welcome to Lightning Way!” She smiles.

“Thanks” says Drax extending his hand and gripping hers firmly.

“What a grip, stranger. You must have served.” The woman says.

“Well as a matter of fact…” Drax started.

“What’s your pleasure here? You guys from Old Millburn?” The woman asks, looking behind her with a nervous look.

“Well, we are from out of town, just looking for supplies.” Drax nods. “Do you know if we can get to a place to change?”

“Absolutely” the woman responds and pointed them to a tall broad man with a square, bearded jaw, who approached wearing a long coat over broad shoulders. “I’m Alana. This is Mr. Haverstraw. He can help you from here. I have to run. Nice seeing you.” She ran off towards the far end of the camp where a group of men were gathering with various forms of weaponry.

“Hi.” says Drax on behalf of his entourage as they stared into the strong, but silent eyes of Mr. Haverstraw.

After a brief shower and then changing into more common clothes, décor fit for a play on nineteenth century life, they wandered about the encampment looking about and wondering what to do.

“This place sure is odd for the future” says Tina.

“Must have been some type of ecological disaster or something,” says Drax.

“Is there anything else that could trigger high carbon emissions and dark skies?” asks James.

“Nothing short of a thermonuclear explosion,” laughs Drax.

James looks at him with a puzzled grin. “I have something to say,” he says when Mr. Haverstraw suddenly interrupted them.

“Come. We are about to enjoy our midday meal and would care for you to join us.” Mr. Haverstraw says.

“Sounds like a plan!” says Tina.

They followed him into the dining hall similar in drab and dirt to the other rooms with a long table where they take their seats in turn. The small portioned meal is served of roast veal and cornmeal.

“This is quaint” says Mercedes sarcastically as she picked at the plate before her.

“It’s not bad actually” says Tina rapidly eating her portion as is James, but slowly, as he is thinking how to tell them of his vision.

Alana explained as she ate her portions slowly, “We have to conserve food rations around here. As you probably noticed, vegetation isn’t common here so we harness whatever staple food sources we can from grains and meats that get sent from neighboring villages or from the food regenerator that allows us to replicate certain items, but its power reserve is low. Sometimes we just go hungry for a while depending on the season.”

“Guys I have to tell you about what I saw when we were in Ancient Egypt,” says James.

“Ancient Egypt?” asks Haverstraw. “You guys aren’t from Old Millburn are you?”

“Well…” Drax started to explain.

“It’s important and cannot wait,” insisted James.

Drax leaned over to whisper in James’ ear. “We shouldn’t be talking about the time stone or any prior trip we take in front of the locals.”

“Oh come on. This is baloney. We need to tell now,” yells James.

“James, don’t do this, wait…” says Tina.

“I have a vision” interrupted James.

“A vision?” asks Haverstraw.

“We’re from your past” says James.

“James” scolded Tina.

“It’s true. We traveled here through time and space from the past, specifically from Ancient Egypt, where I had a vision. It was a mushroom cloud, a perfect civilization that didn’t exist to us yet wiped out by catastrophe.” James says quickly.

Drax shakes his head and covered his eyes.

“Oh my God, Daryl… they’re jumpers!” says Alana with a wide glare in her eyes.

“What is that?” asks Drax.

“The ones who have been plucked out of their own Times and journey along the temporal spatial streams, it’s an old legend I heard of when I was a kid.”

“We all heard it” says Haverstraw “but it is only a legend and not reality. They are liars.”

“No it’s true” says Mercedes, “I know it’s a little bit unbelievable.”

“I know. Come with me into the situation room. We need to discuss some things” says Alana looking at Daryl, both rising from their chairs.

In the situation room, a small area, surrounding a long brown table with a map emblazoned on it, the two group leaders Alana and Daryl talk to the foursome about their unbelievable adventures.

“So let me get this straight” says Daryl inquisitively, “you guys found the ancient relic, the eye of the gods otherwise known as the time stone? That is the only real explanation.”

“That’s correct” says Drax reluctantly.

“Prove it” says Daryl.

“OK, this is how we travel through time.” He takes out the green emerald. “Legend calls this ‘the eye of the gods’ as you just did, but we call it the Time Stone as also just did. We seem to lose its function in each Time of zone we land in, but it emits a temporal wormhole, a powerful gateway along the spatial temporal stream.” Drax says.

“You guys really are from another world or time…” says Alana. “We only heard of this in stories passed down from our forefathers from before the Great Conflict.”

“It is pretty amazing” beckons Mercedes.

“And the future vision you received James, why didn’t you tell us sooner?” asks Drax.

“I didn’t really get the chance with all we’ve been through back there, but it’s like I experienced it first hand, I saw it as if I am there, but never left my spot in that past Time. I saw, smelt, and felt the flames and heard the explosion, a beautiful city with amazing technological advancements and roads that stretch to the heavens, flying cars and ships, all wiped out in an instant.” James finished his sentence.

“We don’t know if that is the case for sure” says Drax.

“I know” says James sincerely.

“How is that possible?” asks Tina. “James, could your psychokinetic powers have grown to full blown premonitions over time?”

“Maybe” James says.

“Maybe his mind as the mythic being the Holder of Stones can cultivate multiple powers at once, such as psychokinetic abilities, telepathy, and even remote viewing of events in time and space” says Drax.

“That’s incredible” says Mercedes. “Our minds are receptive to things in our direct environment so it’s possible James has the extra sensory perception of picking things up in distant locations and can recollect it in his temporal lobe and case specific subconscious memory. We all have lapses in our minds as the brain is still a mystery. We can see into normal flows of space and time. He can additionally see beyond normal space and time.”

“So I am some kind of psychic?” asks James.

“Well, you saw the future, but now it is the past. Are there no records of what happened?” asks Drax to Alana.

“Nothing survived the Great Conflict, but word of mouth. Very few remember or are willing to talk about it. Some were sworn to secrecy and long since forgotten things like my uncle, a big general during the conflict.” Alana says.

“Oh no” says Tina.

“There was one guy, the old kook in the woods, what’s his name, Kokoro?” asks Daryl.

“Kowalski, Howard Kowalski” stated Alana. “He was a very brilliant scientist, worked for the old Army during the Great Conflict and knows a lot about life beforehand, but he is very old now and gone quite crazy. Last I heard he build a small shack in the middle of the woods and wanted to remain isolated from people. He says it is too painful to be in this city. I doubt he would be of any help if he is even still alive.”

“It’s worth a try to track him down. Maybe we can do something to help prevent this future when we go back” says Mercedes.

“If you really want to help us, we can use your abilities and knowledge of the past to help us find the ‘Dark Star’” says Alana.

“What’s that?” asks Drax.

“It’s another stupid legend” says Daryl, “not real you know.”

“That’s what they say about the jumpers and look that we have here,” says Alana. “It’s no legend. It’s an ancient artifact that is supposed to be built and harnessed by a great and powerful warrior. It is rumored in legend that the possessor would gain the strength of a million armies. It is lost long ago in the dark forest and would prove extraordinarily resilient in facing our current dilemma.”

“What’s that?” asks Drax.

“We are being exterminated by a ruthless villain who dwells in the towers above the city and who is the source of chaos during the Great Conflict, the United Regiment of the Oligarchy. After the old army is destroyed, the villages began to form as strongholds to withstand the tyranny of the Chosen One whose identity we never knew. The oligarchy has become a force of control and corruption against us. They threaten to wipe us out because we won’t worship them. These forces have caused havoc amongst us as we try to rebuild our lives. Little by little we hear of groups such as ours that were scattered throughout the land and are being completely wiped out. They have powerful weapons we cannot match, and they won’t stop until we are all dead. We believe the dark star could be are only hope. The wind forces above the caverns deep in the dark forest make it impenetrable with our present means plus there are wild beasts in the dark forest rumored to be part man, but no one has escaped and lived to confirm it.”

“What are these forces of the Chosen One?” asks James.

“Really bad things,” Alana continues. “We don’t know exactly where they come from as their origin remains a yet elusive mystery, but some who witnessed the carnage who barely escaped with their lives told us they were monsters, beings with fangs and animal features, on their mouths and feet, fur and claws on their hands, and they have impenetrable armor that glows when hit. They come without warning and obliterate groups with little effort at all. The human race is facing extinction and it is only a matter of time.” She wept slightly and grabbed hold of the table. Daryl held her arm to help her up.

“I can answer some more. I have seen the horrors first hand” says an apparent ninety-nine year old man with a robe and cloth approaching, a priest.

“Father Riley” says Alana smiling as he approached. “I am the eldest in the community and was still not yet conceived at the time of the great conflict, but I have heard stories from my forefathers, and I have heard of the terrible fate that awaits those who challenge forth into the dark woods. Legend tells of a mighty beast that dwells within the dark woods. The quest for the dark star is not an easy one. Put your faith and lives in love, faith, and hope and you will pull through together.”

“Thanks Father.” nodded Drax with a smile.

“We know it is a long shot, but a powerful weapon like the Dark Star, if it is real, would help us withstand the attack.” says Alana. “According to legend it is the only thing capable of forcing through the powerful energy shield surrounding the citadel.”

“The citadel at the center of town?” asks Mercedes.

Alana nodded crying.

“We think their force shield is impenetrable” says Daryl “but if the Dark Star exists it can theoretically create ‘the power of the stars’ as our ancestors put it, but our scientists theorize it creates a quantum fluctuation of hyper intensified neutrinos that can vaporize any obstacle, material or otherwise.”

“Your appearance here has given us hope that we can find it. As we speak, forces of the Chosen One are planning to converge on our encampment and we may be the next ones to be wiped out!” adds Alana crying.

Drax and his crew felt a tight knot in the pits of their stomachs as they almost wept as well in shock and horror at hearing about the carnage and the pending onslaught.

“You are time jumpers and have means we can only dream of. You might be our only hope!” cried Alana.

The foursome felt horrified that the beasts they have battled before resulted in the virtual end of humanity in the future and they felt honor bound to provide whatever assistance they could.

“We have to do something!” screams Tina.

“We shall!” Commanded Drax with his fists clenched at his sides.

The four stands ready before their new allies whose confidence endured with a pair of bright sudden smiles with concerned eyes.