Chapter 5: Echoes of 2026

"What's wrong with you?" Anastasia asked, stepping back as her brown eyes narrowed on his trembling frame.

Sebastian stood pressed against the far wall of the small studio apartment, his breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps. He stared at her shoulder, the very spot his hand had touched before slowly forcing his eyes up to meet her cold, sharp gaze. The vision of a woman plummeting over a high balcony still burned behind his eyelids.

He swallowed hard, forcing his locking jaw to relax. "Nothing," he rasped, his voice rough from cold. He took a steadying breath and lowered his arms. "I'm... fine. I just remembered something."

Anastasia watched him carefully for a long beat, her executive instincts searching for any sign of a threat. Finding none, she turned to the table, picked up the steaming mug of hot coffee she had bought, and held it out to him.

"Drink this," she said neutrally. "It'll help get your core temperature back up."

Sebastian stepped away from the wall and took the ceramic mug. The heat radiating into his palms was immediate, soothing the last lingering tremors in his hands. He took a slow sip, letting the dark liquid warm his throat.

"What's your name?" Anastasia asked, leaning casually against the edge of the wooden table. "And do you have any family or anyone in the city who can come pick you up?"

"Sebastian," he replied, his voice growing clearer. He looked down at his dirty, worn trousers and shook his head, a line of deep confusion cutting into his brow. "I... I don't know how I ended up on the street like this. The last thing I remember..." He trailed off, tightening his grip on the mug. He looked up at her. "Do you have a phone I can borrow? I need to call my assistant, Alex."

"I don't have a phone," Anastasia said plainly. "Wait here. I'll ask one of the neighbors down the hall."

She turned and left the apartment, closing the door firmly behind her.

Left alone in the quiet studio, Sebastian stood in the middle of the room, staring at the floor. Minutes later, Anastasia returned, holding a borrowed mobile phone. She handed it to him.

"Here."

Sebastian took the device and immediately pulled up the dial pad. He punched in the ten digits he knew by heart, Alex’s direct corporate line and pressed the call button. He lifted the phone to his ear.

Silence.

A second later, an automated computerized voice echoed through the speaker: “We’re sorry. The number you have dialed is not in service or has been disconnected...”

Sebastian frowned, pulling the phone away. Disconnected? Alex’s line is an enterprise corporate line. It’s never disconnected.

He dialed it a second time, carefully double-checking each digit. The exact same automated recording played. He tried again. And again.

Frustration mounting, he lowered the phone to scroll through the device’s basic interface to see if the network connection was failing. But as his thumb swiped across the screen, his eyes caught the small digital header at the top of the display.

SAT, JUN 8, 2024

Sebastian froze. The air left his lungs.

He stared at the numbers. 2024.

"What's the date today?" Sebastian asked, his voice suddenly dangerously quiet as he looked up at Anastasia.

"June 8th," she replied cleanly.

"No," he said, stepping forward, his eyes fixed on hers. "What year is it?"

"It's 2024," Anastasia said, her eyebrows pulling together at his intensity.

Sebastian wanted to yell at her, to tell her she was wrong and that the year was actually 2026. But looking at her calm, serious face, he realized she wasn't lying. He swallowed his words and forced himself to stay quiet.

"I see," he murmured softly, handing the phone back to her. "Thank you for the call."

Anastasia took the phone back. She looked at his pale face, then checked her remaining cash balance. She had over three thousand dollars now.

"I'm going out to buy food, basic supplies, and groceries for the apartment," Anastasia said, grabbing her coat. "Stay inside until I get back."

The moment the front door clicked shut behind her, Sebastian turned on his heel and walked straight out of the apartment.

He descended the staircase into the bright afternoon light of the Chicago street. He approached a passerby, a man in a business suit holding a newspaper.

"Excuse me," Sebastian interrupted, his tone commanding despite his filthy appearance. "What city is this? And what is today's exact date?"

The man looked at him with slight annoyance and stepped back, apparently put off by his dirty clothes. "It's Chicago, pal. And it's June 8th, 2024. Get out of my way."

Sebastian didn't hear the rest. He turned on his heel and walked back into the apartment building like a ghost, closing the studio door behind him.

He walked into the small private bathroom and stood before the mirror.

He stared at his reflection. It was his face, the sharp jawline, the dark eyes, the same bone structure, though drawn, exhausted, and covered in street grime.

He closed his eyes, leaning his hands heavily against the edge of the sink as his mind spiraled backward into the dark void of memory.

New York City. June 7th, 2026.

He was in his private luxury suite at the Manhattan Grand Hotel, waiting for a high-stakes merger meeting with his international partners. His assistant, Alex, had just stepped out of the suite to grab updated financial reports and coffee from the lobby.

While sitting at his desk, Sebastian started hearing sharp, frantic raised voices coming from the adjoining suite next door. The sound of a heavy argument vibrated through the shared wall.

Uncomfortable with the disruption and expecting Alex to return down the hallway, Sebastian stood up and opened his suite door. As he stepped into the carpeted corridor, he saw a woman walking rapidly down the hall. She pushed open the door to the adjoining suite where the screaming was coming from, and left the door slightly cracked behind her.

Curiosity got the better of him.

Sebastian stepped quietly down the hallway, stopping beside the cracked door. He slid his smartphone out of his pocket, set it to record, and looked through the narrow gap.

Inside, two women were in a bitter argument near the open balcony window, while a man in a sharp tailored suit stood watching. As the argument turned violent, one of the women grabbed the victim by the shoulders and shoved her back with terrifying force. The victim stumbled toward the open balcony, but as the man lunged forward, his boot caught her leg, tripping her entirely.

Before the victim could recover her balance, the other woman drove one final, violent push straight into her chest. The victim fell backward over the railing, her hands clawing wildly at the heavy curtains before her body tipped out into the open air, falling fifteen floors below.

"Evelyn!" a voice shrieked as she fell.

Inside the suite, the man instantly grabbed the woman who had pushed her, while the second woman inside gasped in panic.

"Listen to me!" the man hissed, his voice lethal and urgent as he held the crying woman by her shoulders. "She fell! You tried your best to save her! Do you understand me?! That is the story!"

The other woman inside stepped up, grabbing the crying murderer by her cheeks. "Get a grip! Clean your face right now!"

Within seconds, all three of them composed their faces, transforming into pictures of innocent panic.

Stunned by the sheer brutality of the murder he had just witnessed on his camera, Sebastian shifted his weight—and the unlatched door gave way.

The door swung wide open with a loud click. Sebastian lost his balance, stumbling into the room.

Before he could react, the man in the suit lunged forward, grabbing Sebastian by his collar and hauling him violently into the suite, slamming the door shut behind him.

"Who the hell are you?!" the man snarled, pinning Sebastian against the wall. "What were you doing at the door?!"

Sebastian didn't flinch. He glared directly into the killer's eyes, holding his phone tightly. "I saw everything," Sebastian said, his voice cold and laced with disgust. "I recorded every second of it. I'm not afraid of you. I'm taking this directly to the authorities to get justice for the innocent woman you just murdered."

He shoved the man back and turned toward the exit.

CLANG.

A heavy glass bottle smashed across the back of Sebastian's skull.

Pain exploded behind his eyes. Sebastian staggered, his sight instantly washing red as thick blood poured down the side of his face. He turned back slowly, his vision fading, to see the man standing over him holding the jagged neck of the broken bottle. Beside him, the two women watched with cold, satisfied smiles.

Sebastian's legs gave out. He slammed into the floor, the dark carpet rushing up to meet him as his consciousness dissolved into complete blackness.

In the small Chicago bathroom, Sebastian snapped his eyes open.

He stared at his reflection in the mirror, his breathing heavy, his chest rising and falling violently.

He was dead. They had killed him in 2026 to cover up Evelyn's murder.

And somehow, by some unexplainable miracle, his soul had been pulled back two years into the past, waking up in a different city, in a broken state, but alive.

A terrifyingly cold resolve settled into Sebastian's chest. He straightened his back, his eyes darkening into pure obsidian as he stared at his reflection.

"I don't know who you two women and that man are yet," he whispered into the quiet bathroom, his voice dripping with lethal intent. "But I know your faces. And I swear on my life... I will find you, and you will pay for what you did to Evelyn, and what you did to me."

Behind him, the front door of the studio apartment clicked open. Anastasia had returned.