BlackSite

One strike – heart to lungs – it all crashes out. Repeat that mantra. Recite. Relive it all.

“Welcome to Chrono Pacific - peacekeeping and harbinger of blooming tales!” A pre-recorded message played as a group of scientists prepared for takeoff.

Gloves on tight, windows shut and obscured, weapons ready. They held their robes tight as they made outlines for their notetaking, the ship's hull was filled with de-rusting metal and cargo containing whatnot.

“We advise you to heed the advice of our security division – please look at the screen onboard until the video is over.”

One of the scientists sighed before she put on her helmet – blocking out the noise and the light of the ship – blue and cold, just like some blood. Another muttered the warnings... don’t look outside at the desynced, remember how timelines work, technically you can never go home... boohoo.

Tall and in strong armor came their knight – their third mechanical arm pressing on some buttons and levers as they cataloged this on both physical and electronic documents. Then they sat down alongside the team as they discussed what to do first.

“I propose we explore into the varme-sten zone – some of the specimens and geology are currently locked and or entirely missing.”

“Thanks, Captain Obvious.” The one with the helmet said as she opened the visor to talk with him, pulling out some papers with a lot of notes and strategies upon them.

“Over here – south of the HMHQ exists a major volcanic point – as made obvious by the fact we’re still making Hadal Mulchers to mine these places dry. If my theories are correct – by our estimated timeline – there shall be a massive mining pit ripe for gathering and a good safari mission...”

She pulled out a hologram model of the exoplanet Biri Eight-Y-Seven, a frozen coffin of a planet home to unique waters and deep-sea creatures adapted for the pressure.

Their knight just sat there silently as she explained further about her plans, playing with their mechanical arm’s fingers—four prongs essentially, all metal, all dead. They already checked and tested their equipment. Their helmet perfectly reflected the hull and cockpit, an obsidian black mirror.

“Hey, you!” The lady said as she threw them a tracker, a black puck.

They caught it with their regular arms as they then swirled around in their chair.

“I already have- ”

“It’s for us, not for you.” She cut them off before also throwing them a protein bar – which they caught with the third arm.

“And thank you for choosing us for your time-traveling adventures!” The voice-over finally ended as the team got ready for the main process... one let out an exhale as he pulled a few other levers, and all got strapped in, click, click, click...

Centrifuge – the perfect word to describe what was about to happen to them. Spin around on an individual scale. Separate the organs, the atoms, and then them from reality. And just like that – you just ruined the laws of thermodynamics and escaped our reality. Reality doesn’t like time travel.

Your heart no longer beats but you no longer die. Blood hisses in your veins and you can never remember when. Only for a few moments – you have become immortal.

Move through plasma as cautiously as a ship out at sea – keep your eyes closed and closed – be a perfect little task bot as you head into the timeless. One mistake is all it takes.

Don’t look out towards the pretty lights or the liminal lakes. Don’t ever be human out here.

“Initiating filtering process.” The knight’s voice rang out with an infinite echo, pulling down levers and playing time like a god. “Core stability at a hundred marks. No nearby objects...” That filter kept their voice robotic as the system.

“Almost there.”

Something tapped on the outside.

They ignored their instincts to look over. Focusing on doing their tasks. You can see it no matter which way you look. It drags on your vision and melts into your mind.

It taps again.

“Beginning descent.” That robotic voice melted into the space around them. Dust and stars floated in the air as the centrifuge began once again, their forms only of their souls as dread corroded them.

The sky was set ablaze with a blue fire. Brimstone and spires. Nothing you can ever admire.

“Stability at ninety-five marks.”

Strobing lights, the fire flickers every instance, and something smoothly descends. Red and violet light fills in the inside lights, and the cynosure spirals all. Black metal and four limbs, mandibles of a forgotten evolution.

The knight looks back for just a moment. Death is the only thing seen immediately.

Something forces them to look away. Their heart pounds as their bodies reform. Silently they slide back as they get one of the scientists away from the main area. Ignoring the infrared strobes they both remain completely silent. Why can they hear nothing?

Their third arm reaches out towards the spot of another scientist, hearing the noise through the vibrations. They were already raptured. The arm still reaches out for another thing to grab – it is breathing – it is something made of only light.

It moves away – a gait like no other animal as it heads towards the safe room – the knight slithers on the ground as they try to not look back, adrenaline at an all-time high as their descent begins to fail into this new reality.

On the opposite side of the wall, they try to knock on the metal walls to communicate with the scientists, to only then hear just one scream – their soul knocked through theirs – and it all melts into the timeless.

It grabs onto their shoulders as they float in gravity. That one eye spiraling into their mind. They resist – they stay calm for once.

And it lets go.

The ship’s safety mechanisms slow it down as it enters the atmosphere, that green-filtered air fills the inside as they quickly get up to the main controls – their arms flailing around as they press all sorts of callbacks and levers.

A green vibrant world appears below them as they pull towards the coast, the ship barely drifting as it hits terminal velocity, the engines outside scorching jagged rocks, and the calm ocean. Corrosive smoke trails follow behind as pieces of clouds drop down.

They pull back as hard as they can – ripping off the main control as they then jam their mechanical hand into the console – manually overriding all of the systems as they prepare for a crash landing in a field.

One kiss on the ground – one entire ship down. It tumbles forward on impact, and a crater smears as it gets knocked around inside. Their grip is lost as they head back into the hull.

They land on top of a massive crate as the ship finally stops tumbling, their entire body numb from anxiety as they take many, many deep breaths.

No one else around, nothing but this green human-less planet.

They stumble off the crate as their third arm counters them from falling on their head. The ship is at a slight angle – like a permanent wave on an endless storm.

They take soft and careless steps toward the main time engine as a corrosive smell is inhaled.

Black mold – vein-like growth has infested the engine, and they can’t rip it off even with their strength. No going back yet. They let out a sigh, then a slight scream as they slide down on a wall, the loose wires playing them a tune, all too little.