## **Chapter 3 – The Map Beneath Time**
The stars had changed.
Aarin knew it the moment he opened the encrypted file embedded within the cube. It wasn't just a map—it was a **record of the sky** across millennia. Constellations twisted, galaxies moved. Celestial drift that should have taken billions of years had been **tracked and archived**.
And at the center of it all was **Earth**—not once, but in three **different timelines**.
He sat alone at the edge of the camp, the glow of the holographic map swirling in the air around him, casting shadows that danced across the cracked soil of Orion-9. His gloved fingers traced the shifting patterns of stars as glyphs translated slowly across his HUD.
> "Temporal divergence detected."
> "Anchor point: Sol System."
> "Collapse probability: 91.6%"
His breath hitched. That number hadn't been a prediction.
It was a **countdown**.
---
Inside the command tent, Captain Raylen paced furiously while Selene sat with her head buried in her hands.
"We're not trained for this," Selene muttered. "We came for geological surveys. Plant life. Data. Not alien weapons, not time anomalies, and definitely not goddamn biomechanical war beasts."
Raylen stopped pacing. "We don't have a choice anymore. That thing came for Aarin. And if what he's saying is true, Earth is already in the firing line."
Selene looked up. "You trust him?"
"I don't have to trust him," Raylen said. "The planet responded to him. That cube chose *him*. If he's the key... we either help him open the door—or we wait here for it to open on its own."
Selene hesitated, then asked, "What if we open the wrong door?"
Neither of them had an answer.
---
Aarin stood at the cliff's edge, staring down into the valley where the alien ruins pulsed like a heart. His father's voice echoed again in his mind, buried deep in the subconscious:
> "They were architects of time, Aarin. Not gods. Not devils. But something in between."
He reached into his pack and pulled out the old, weathered notebook—the only thing that remained of Dr. Hal Voss after his disappearance. The last page had always been blank… until now.
The symbols had appeared.
A matching pattern to those from the cube.
The page shimmered faintly under the light of the moons.
> \[Coordinates Acquired: Subterranean Layer Alpha]
> \[Access Key Required: Genetic Match Confirmed]
> \[Portal Available – ETA: 14 minutes]
His fingers trembled.
Beneath Orion-9, something ancient waited.
And he had just been granted entry.
---
Fourteen minutes later, Aarin stood in a clearing, just beyond the ruins. The ground vibrated subtly, and a circle of glyphs formed beneath him, casting golden arcs of energy in all directions.
The air warped.
Light bent.
And then reality cracked open like an egg.
Not exploded—not like a wormhole—but **peeled**, revealing something beneath the crust of space itself. A transparent dome rose from the soil, and within it, **a massive chamber of suspended machines** hovered—silent, unmoving, waiting like tombstones of a forgotten war.
As he stepped inside, the lights flickered on one by one.
The cube pulsed in his palm.
Suddenly, he was **not alone**.
A form stepped from the shadows—humanoid, but taller, wrapped in layers of semi-metallic fabric that moved like water. Its face was veiled, but its voice was clear, ringing not in his ears, but in his **bones**.
> "The key has arrived."
Aarin took a cautious step back.
"Who are you?"
The figure tilted its head. "I am what remains. The Archivist. Last of the Timeless Order."
Aarin's heart pounded. "My father… he came here. You saw him."
The Archivist nodded slowly. "He carried the first seed. But he was not the match."
"Where is he?!"
The Archivist paused. "Alive. But trapped. In the in-between."
Aarin clenched his fists. "Then help me bring him back."
The Archivist extended a hand, and a wall of light formed beside him. A ripple passed through it, and a scene played out like a memory projected in full clarity.
It showed Earth—burning.
Massive black ships descended through atmosphere, cutting cities in half. Oceans boiled. The skies fractured. But worst of all, Aarin saw **humans on the ground**... not running. Not fighting.
They were kneeling.
Worshipping.
> "The End is not invasion," the Archivist said. "It is **conversion**."
> "A fracture in time created a loop. In one loop, Earth fell. In another, it forgot. This is the third."
> "You are the variable. The unpredictable."
Aarin swallowed. "Then what's my mission?"
The Archivist stepped aside.
A new map formed, but this time it wasn't of stars. It was of **machines**—titanic constructs buried across multiple planets, including Earth.
> "You must awaken the other Cores. Each one contains a fragment of the Temporal Lock."
> "Only then can you enter the In-Between and face the one who guards your father."
> "But be warned..."
The map dissolved.
> "Each Core is guarded. Not by soldiers. But by gods who forgot they died."
---
Back at camp, Raylen's radio buzzed with static before clearing.
Aarin's voice came through.
"I found the next location. It's not on this planet."
Raylen narrowed her eyes. "Then where?"
A pause.
And then, Aarin replied:
> "It's Earth."
---
**