The Watchmaker's Will"
The steady, rhythmic drone of the four massive Allison turboprop engines filled the cavernous cargo hold of the C-130 Hercules, providing a mechanical sanctuary against the chaos they had left behind in Geneva. For seven hours, the aircraft had traced the precise edges of the chronal slipstream, carving a invisible path through the upper atmosphere across the Mediterranean and into the airspace over western Asia. Outside the scratched oval portals, the sky was a deep, unblemished indigo, untouched by the shifting, flickering realities that were currently fracturing the cities below.