The morning light filtered through thin beige curtains, scattering faint warmth across the polished wooden floor. Caleb Marlowe stirred under the weight of sleep, his hand instinctively reaching across the bed. His fingers found warmth, a soft swell beneath cotton.
"Still here," he murmured, his voice hoarse from sleep.
Aria lay beside him, her dark hair fanned across the pillow like ink spilled on paper. Her breath was soft, steady. Caleb shifted closer, resting his hand gently on the curve of her belly. The skin beneath his palm was warm and alive.
It's too quiet lately. Like the world knows something I don't.
The baby kicked once, a small, soft push. Caleb smiled, lips barely parting, and leaned in to kiss her temple. Aria stirred, eyelashes fluttering like fragile wings, and turned her head toward him.
"She's been active all morning," she whispered, her voice still wrapped in sleep.
"She?" Caleb chuckled, letting his thumb circle gently across her stomach. "What if it's a boy?"
Aria gave him a look that was half amusement, half certainty. "It's a girl. I can feel it."
He grinned, the kind of grin only she ever saw. "Beatrice, then?"
"Beatrice," she said, closing her eyes again, the word lingering like a prayer.
They lay there for a while. The silence was full of small sounds, wind nudging the window frame, the soft groan of the floorboards adjusting to the day. Caleb didn't want to move. Not yet. But the digital clock beside him blinked in red, flashing a quiet warning: 8:47 a.m.
He forced himself up, joints creaking in protest. Aria watched him dress from the bed, her hand still resting protectively on her belly.
"You're still going today?" she asked, her voice laced with hesitation.
Caleb pulled on his shirt, buttoning it slowly. "The equations are almost done. Another hour or two, and I think I'll crack the last sequence."
Aria sat up, her face drawn with concern. "You don't need to crack anything. Stay. Just today. We can watch that dumb show you hate and eat something terrible."
Just today. Just this one day… But if I stay, I won't finish the time regression. And then what? Another month? Another year?
He gave her a soft smile, one that didn't reach his eyes. "One last push. After that, I'll stay for a month straight. I promise."
She looked away, hurt flickering across her face like a fading signal. "You've said that before."
"I mean it this time," he said, stepping closer. He took her hand in both of his, kneeling beside the bed. "After this, I'm yours. Completely."
Aria exhaled, the air leaving her like she already knew she'd lose him.
Downstairs, breakfast was simple. Toast, soft-boiled eggs, and black coffee. Caleb sat at the small kitchen table while Aria moved around the stove. She wore his old lab hoodie, sleeves too long, bumping into drawers and catching on cabinet handles. The child inside her shifted again, Caleb noticed her hand move instantly to still it.
"So what's it do again?" she asked as she brought the plates over.
He swallowed a mouthful before answering. "The machine? It'll change everything. Time becomes optional. Causality, mutable. If I'm right, I can create recursive entry points, a stable loop in the flow of cause and effect."
Aria arched a brow. "English, professor."
Caleb smiled. "If I die, I come back."
She froze for just a moment. "What?"
"Only under strict conditions," he clarified quickly. "And it's just theory. Still years from real tests."
Her fingers curled around the ceramic mug. "You shouldn't tempt that kind of power."
What would you do if you could undo your worst day? If you could rewrite the moments that tore you apart?
"I'm not tempting it," he said, forcing lightness into his tone. "I'm trying to understand it."
She didn't reply. Her eyes wandered to the window, staring at nothing in particular.
By 9:30, he was dressed, fed, and standing at the front door. Aria stood across from him, arms crossed, lips tight.
"I have a weird feeling," she said. "Don't go."
He kissed her forehead. "I'll be back before dinner."
Aria didn't answer.
The lab was buried beneath the campus of Westmore Institute, hidden beneath layers of biometric locks and security clearances. Caleb's ID beeped at every checkpoint, doors sliding open with mechanical obedience. Inside, his team was already in motion, scientists hunched over terminals, murmuring equations, calibrating instruments.
Caleb walked straight through, barely acknowledging their greetings. His mind spun with formulas, broken loops, numerical decay, conditional anchors. The air smelled of cold metal and faint ozone. Screens lit the room in sterile blue light. His workstation blinked to life as he approached.
Maybe today's the day. Maybe I'll see her again. Maybe…
The hum of machinery was constant, comforting. Until it wasn't.
His phone rang. Sharp. Abrupt. Too loud in the controlled quiet.
He looked at the screen.
Unknown Caller.
He answered. "This is Dr. Marlowe."
A pause. Then a voice, distant and urgent: "Is this the husband of Aria Marlowe?"
His body stiffened. "Yes."
"She's at St. Joseph's. There was an episode, she collapsed. You need to come. Now."
Time didn't stop, it just lost its grip. Caleb's mind snapped into motion. He turned toward the exit.
But a voice stopped him.
"Caleb, wait," said Dr. Brooks, stepping into his path. "If you leave now, the model collapses. The final alignment is seconds away. If you stop it, we lose months, maybe years."
Caleb's chest rose and fell in sharp jerks. "Move."
Brooks didn't.
Another scientist joined him, and then another. "You don't understand," one said. "This is your moment. If you walk out now, the system destabilizes. The regression anchor-"
Caleb shoved past them. One grabbed his coat; he tore it off and flung it down.
"She's more important!" he shouted.
He ran. Through white halls and security doors. Up the elevator. Through the parking structure. But when he pushed the lab's final door open, he stopped.
Everything was wrong.
The world outside had changed.
The sky was overcast, but not with clouds, an oppressive, gray stillness that hung in the air. Cars were frozen mid-collision in the street. One sedan was crumpled against a light pole, horn blaring. But no people. No movement. Just… silence.
the hell… what happened?
Caleb stepped into the open, breathing through his mouth. He began to run, dodging wreckage and glass. Toward the hospital. Toward Aria.
He pushed through the revolving doors. No one. The lobby lights flickered, half the bulbs out. Desks abandoned. Wheelchairs overturned. A broken phone lay on the floor, receiver dangling.
"Aria?" he shouted, voice cracking.
His footsteps echoed down the hallway. He burst through the maternity ward. Empty. No nurses. No patients. No sound.
He found her room.
Empty.
The bed was made. The monitors were silent. Her chart lay on the floor, pages scattered like debris after a storm.
"Aria!" he screamed.
He searched every room. Every corridor. Panic rising like bile. Sweat ran down his back in cold streams. He returned to her room, collapsed to his knees.
Where are you? Please… where are you?
He sat there, trembling. Minutes passed. Or maybe hours. He couldn't tell anymore.
Then he heard it.
A soft hum. Barely audible. From the corner of the room, where an old radio sat, untouched.
A bird chirped through the static.
That sound… from breakfast. The window. A bird?
Caleb's eyes widened. His mind snapped into motion again. He stood, staggering.
He ran. Back through the city. Through the devastation. Toward the only place that might still hold answers.
Back in the lab, everything was in disarray. Power flickered. Terminals glitched. He was alone. No colleagues. No voices. Just the hum of machines left half-alive.
He moved with purpose now. Faster than he ever had. Rerouting power. Rebuilding alignment coils. Rewriting code manually. His fingers bled from snapped wires and sharp metal. But he worked. Through the exhaustion. Through the grief.
Tell me there's a way back. Let this be the price. Let this pain buy me one more chance.
Days blurred into each other. Or maybe years. He lost track of time. Hair grew wild. Nails broke. Muscles wasted.
He built it alone.
And when it was finally done, when the last conduit hummed and the chamber lit up with pale blue light, he stood before it.
He closed his eyes.
"I'm coming, Aria."
Then the machine surged, overloaded, and exploded in a burst of unstable light.
And Caleb Marlowe died.