Mandela Effect List Novels & Stories

There was a folder on a table. Dick. Black. With blasphemy inscription. LIST B List B John became chalky. He whispered: “No... they also kept them.” Mara looked at him. “What is List B?” But Dr. Falk answered. His voice was barely more than a touch. “The list of those who made it.” Mara felt her heart stopped. ‘Procured?’ Dr. Falk nodded. “The one whose consciousness was successfully transferred. Not on machines. To other people.” Nobody said anything. Even the sea seemed quiet.

“Of course. We just couldn’t speak to you downstairs in a public space. You can understand that it’s sensitive information.” “Very much so.” Sargent Layton pulled out his phone and set it up to record the interview. “Alright, let’s try this again. Now how is Mr. Mandela involved in your investigation and how could this assault affect your investigation?” “We are to following several bird crumb trails of evidence that lead us to believe Mr. Mandela and the woman claiming to be his daughter aren’t who they say they are and are profiting from the sabotage and espionage events. We are trying to connect them to the actual events now.”

East did not reply, he looked at Elize with a mischievous grin. "I'm going to the ladies' room," said Elize. East smiled. "Okay." Elize stood up and went to the ladies' room. ************ Dark gazed upon the other table in their office. He stared at Auie and Trans, who spoke cheerfully. Dark shook his head, picked up a file and read what was inside. As Trans said, every death list has a Vanessa Samonte alias Elize Mendoza in the middle. ‘This one is very reprehensible. Tsk! ’ - Dark thought

Screenshots of iMessage and W******p conversations, bank statements, codenames, and the true identity of these mystery men. In less than 48 hours, all the names on the list were apprehended and prosecuted using the addresses provided by the anonymous mail. They were also links to the murder of Adetunji Adewale, bearing CCTV recordings that showed Olalekan and a few other workers who were all arrested, torturing the man.

Daniel froze. "No." "What?" Ama asked. Daniel slowly turned the screen toward them. A list of names had appeared. Dozens of names. Hundreds. People connected to Project Sophia. Some were familiar. Some weren't. Victor Mensah. Gabriel Laurent. Alexander Laurent. Valerie Kane. Vanessa Kane. Adrian Cole. Evelyn Mensah. And near the top— Ama's name. Or rather— Sophia Laurent. Ama felt chills spread through her body.

One by one. Helena Calloway. James Obi. Ruth Adeyemi. Comfort. Benson. The nine. Amaka Osei. The six researchers in Edmund’s documentation. The two West African researchers. Every person named in the trial record as a direct victim of the operation he had built. He named them in the order the harm had been done to them. Starting with her mother. Starting with the twenty-three-year-old researcher in Edinburgh in 1986. Sera felt the full weight of her mother’s name in that man’s mouth in that courtroom and let it land completely. Without compression. The full specific weight of hearing the name of the person she was most made of spoken by the person most responsible for the damage done to her.

How very British. “Help yourselves.” Nkosi waved his teacup. Max poured a cup and selected a small biscuit as a gesture of politeness. “Nkosi—” “Please. Call me Mandla. I hate formalities.” Mandla ignored Max’s raised eyebrow. “I’ve heard good things about MIT. Rumors are, thanks to MIT2’s loyal work, there are six notorious Isis leaders behind bars.” Max kept his expression neutral as Mandla continued. “I’m sure you’ve reviewed my file. But you don’t know me, and I don’t know you. We have little time to establish trust. I need to reassure you however that I work closely with the STF.”