"1888. Vienna. That’s our target. Leo, begin preparations for temporal insertion. Scarlett, gather everything you can on that period, on the Syndicate’s initial moves. We’re going to create a paradox."
Zayn’s words hung in the sterile air of the Hayes Group war room, heavy with the weight of unimaginable risk. The holographic display of tangled timelines and glowing red nexus points pulsed, a silent testament to the colossal gamble they were about to take. His father’s journal lay on the console, its worn leather pages a stark contrast to the gleaming technology, a tangible reminder of the cosmic price of deviation. Tuan Carter was gone, erased from the timeline, a chilling example of the Guardians’ absolute power. The Guardians. The Shadow Syndicate. Thorne. And now, 1888 Vienna.
Scarle
