The jump was firm.
When they emerged from the Portal of the Stone, the world around them was different.
Cold.
Somber.
Smelling of gunpowder and damp earth.
Central Europe.
Year 1944.
—
The witches and Kael materialized beneath the darkness of a forest near the front lines.
The silence was not peace.
It was the tense pause between bombardments and the next volley.
In the distance, sporadic gunfire echoed.
The heavy roar of armored engines rumbled like choking thunder on the horizon.
Kael signaled with his hand:
— Recon formation. Pairs.
Quickly:
Helena and Claudia moved forward to scout the terrain.
Nikita and Camila flanked the sides, ready for combat.
Marie and Patricia, disguised as civilians, slipped through the shadows.
Amina and Samantha consulted their historical navigation devices, guiding the group through safe paths.
Kael, at the center, controlled the advance.
—
The plan was simple:
Find the clandestine transmission cell.
Identify if any anomalous temporal intervention had occurred.
Restore the normal flow of information vital to D-Day.
No deviations.
No creating new conflicts.
Intervene only where necessary.
—
During the march, Marie used her new Transcoder to track unusual transmission patterns.
Patricia established quick escape routes and points of contact with possible Resistance cells.
With every step, the ancient, ruined streets of the nearby town revealed the harshness of that time:
Shattered houses.
Military posts.
Starving people, wandering like ghosts.
—
At one point, Claudia stopped abruptly.
Helena immediately crouched beside her.
Ahead, visible under the faint light of a broken streetlamp, a small building appeared intact—a decrepit watchmaker's shop.
According to the League's data, that was where the clandestine agents were supposed to be.
Or were supposed to have been.
—
Kael approached, studying the scene.
There was no movement.
No sound.
Something was wrong.
He raised two fingers.
Maximum alert signal.
—
Silently, they prepared for what awaited inside that broken clock shop.
Because in times of war, even time itself can bleed.