Age of Dharine
“Imagine when you’re on that stage, receiving the Consortium Excellence Award for unveiling the secrets of the MindCode.” Shariya’s eyes sparkled with pride. The CONLABS complex, with its shimmering facade, diminished in our rearview mirror as we journeyed to her home, continuing our unspoken week-by-week rotation between our houses.
Drones zipped above, and self-driving cars hummed alongside us. Holographic displays danced with the newest tech marvels, with the CONLABS complex standing as the crown jewel of the city’s tech achievements.
“You know the MindCode isn’t the only marvel out there,” I replied, humbling the swell of pride within me. With this tool, the deepest corners of the human mind weren’t dark anymore. It brought to light hidden memories, secrets, and feelings, like flipping the pages of a once-sealed book.
Seeing my reflection, I subconsciously patted down my hair. Shariya laughed. “Vain much?”
With a playful shrug, I replied, “One should look good when they’ve changed the world, right? Still, there are wonders out there that can overshadow mine.”
“Prove it,” she teased, her blue eyes probing mine with playful intensity. Pink streaks in her golden hair and her unique blend of Goerhan tradition with modern chic made her an unforgettable sight.
Challenges? I thrived on them. Racking my brain, I sought an invention that could match mine. Drawing a blank, I met Shariya’s victorious grin. She thought she had this round, but then a thought sparked!
Out of nowhere, a vehicle barreled towards us. I jerked the wheel, colliding with an obstruction. Our world turned upside down as our car flew and then violently crashed, the roof collapsing. Shariya … was gone. An eerie quiet settled, filling the space where her laughter once was. Memories of our time together surged, intensifying the gaping hole in my heart.
More than a fiancée, Shariya was my compass, my whispered secret keeper. We dreamt of a future, side by side, shaping tomorrow. Her infectious laughter, zest for life, and relentless faith in the MindCode fueled my every step.
As my vision blurred, two figures neared—a looming man and a vigilant woman. The man, a tower of muscle, glided like a hunting cat. The woman, delicate yet fierce, watched every shadow and whisper of wind. With a silent understanding, they weaved through the wreckage in harmony. In a flash, they snatched my briefcase—the very heart of my life’s work, the MindCode. Their icy gazes pierced through me, promising doom. They expected my end, but I defied it, even if part of me wished otherwise.
My hands shook, my heart pounding in my ears, each breath clawing its way out. The wreckage bore down on me, suffocating me, and the theft of the MindCode twisted the knife deeper into my anguish. That briefcase wasn’t just my loss—it robbed the world. The MindCode held keys to unlocking the mysteries of the soul. Now, humanity stood at a crossroads, its progress stolen.
A decade had passed, yet the bitterness lingered. Grabbing my towel, I headed to the bathroom, the past’s claws digging into my soul. Time after time, I’d attempted to break free from its grip, but the chains held firm. In the quiet of the night, Shariya’s desperate eyes haunted my dreams, pleading for rescue. But every attempt to grasp her slipped away, leaving her to vanish into a consuming void.
The razor’s blade bit into my skin, drawing a sharp curse from my lips. Crimson beads formed and trailed their way down my neck, pooling on my chest. Each sting was a welcome reminder, igniting the smouldering fury inside.
Water cascaded down, washing away the sting and grime. Amidst the droplets, the shrill ring of my phone pierced the air. In another time, I might have lunged for it, but I let it ring, allowing the machine to intercept. As the silence settled, a deep, rough voice broke through.
“Mr. Dharine, this is Jouri. I’ve got a proposal that might intrigue you. Return my call. If not, expect to hear from me in fifteen minutes.”
A smirk played on my lips. The pieces were falling into place. I spent years collecting shards of information, trying to decipher who coveted the MindCode. The Brotherhood of Adam lurked in the shadows, but solid proof remained elusive. Jouri’s voice could be the beacon I sought.
He chose the bustling heart of the city for our meeting, seeking to be just another face in the crowd. The skyscrapers of the Upper Goerhan District rose like giants, their neon outlines sketching patterns against the night. Spicy and sweet fragrances tangled in the breeze, coming from sizzling food stalls. Neon reflections painted shimmering patterns on the water. Drones hummed overhead, zipping with their packages, as below, trees shimmered with their own inner light. Crowds flowed around me, their clothes a tapestry of Goerhan’s past and its visions for the future.
Each nook and cranny of the district whispered tales. Aged brick buildings stood beside gleaming tech hubs, the heartbeats of Goerhan’s progress. Ideas and cultures swirled, blending into a mosaic of innovation. Yet shadows lurked, hiding secrets and silent battles only a select few knew. Vendors hawked the latest gadgets, and holograms flaunted tomorrow’s fashion. Amidst this dance of progress and tradition, the city’s most elusive outlaw walked unnoticed.
I’d come early, surveying the surroundings for any whiff of a trap. I could almost hear Shariya’s laughter, her voice tinged with playful mockery of my caution. She’d always plunge fearlessly into the fray while chiding me for overthinking. Today, though, that caution might save me.
For years, murmurs of the Brotherhood of Adam seeped through back alleyways and dimly lit bars, only to vanish when they reached prying ears. A shadowy force, they eluded even the Consortium. Despite my losses, not least of them being Shariya, my influence remained. A swell of memories threatened to drown me, but with a sharp exhale, I forced my focus back on the present.
Jouri’s form soon emerged from the crowd. Most would see just a tourist lost in the city’s wonders. But I spotted the determined set of his shoulders. Dangerous, this one. He was early, but my smirk revealed I was earlier still.
He approached with a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Early bird, aren’t you?” His handshake felt like an iron clamp.
“You’re one to talk,” I shot back, meeting his grip.
He laughed—a genuine sound—and stepped back. “Competing till the end, huh?” Those intense, feline eyes of his tried to pin me down. I met his gaze squarely, a silent understanding flashing between us.
“Resilient,” Jouri observed, adding a playful edge to his voice. “We need someone with your grit.”
I steeled myself, hiding my emotions. “What do you want?”
He hesitated, his eyes searching mine. “A chance for redemption. Interested?”
The Brotherhood of Adam beckoned me to their side. Once allies with the Consortium over Goerhan’s control, a clash of beliefs tore them apart. While the Consortium moulded Goerhan into a technological powerhouse, the city’s heart pulsed with unrest. The Brotherhood’s retaliation? Sabotaging military strongholds, pilfering crucial resources, and undermining the Consortium’s stranglehold. And they recognised the fire in my eyes, for the Consortium had robbed me of everything.
Pulse thundering, I considered their proposition. The Brotherhood dangled the tantalising bait of retribution. My soul screamed for justice for Shariya and the stolen MindCode, but redemption’s call was equally strong. A glance around, wary of hidden eyes and prying ears, reminded me of the stakes at play.
Shariya’s ghost and the void left by the MindCode haunted every thought. My heart wrestled, caught between thirsting for revenge and the lurking dread of aligning with a shadowy faction. I’d strategized against the Consortium, but this twist was unexpected. I needed to tread carefully, masking my eagerness. As the murky waters of political games and temporal journeys deepened, I pondered the true cost of vengeance.
“What’s on the table for me?”
A grin split his face. “Ever considered being the Brotherhood’s second-in-command?”
His words halted me. “Others must be better suited, more devoted.” Doubts churned; I wasn’t a seasoned warrior.
But before I could protest, Jouri’s gaze pinned me. “Dharine, you possess what we desperately seek. With that, we’ll grant you influence, a title, and your sought-after retribution. Your unique abilities are key.”
“How does that work?”
“Brethren’s ears only,” Jouri responded, eyes veiled with secrets.
“And my decision?”
“Six days. Time’s short, Dharine. The Consortium’s plotting major offensives. We’re stretched thin.”
Exiting, I committed to a two-day response time. Curiosity gnawed at me, yet I yearned for more insight. Avoiding my attention-grabbing turbo car, I opted for the subway. As the speed train’s doors almost snapped shut, a dark-skinned woman with ageless eyes slipped inside.
I scrutinised my plans, hunting for flaws and poring over minute details. The sudden appearance of the Brotherhood of Adam added a new wrinkle. My objective remained clear: to erase the Consortium from history. But for that, I needed a TimeGraph.
Four hundred and fifty years ago, a visionary scientist created the TimeGraph, aiming to combat global warming. But this wasn’t merely a machine; it was humanity’s emblem of hope and determination against nature’s might. The sophisticated design captured time’s intricate dance, suggesting that our choices sent ripples across its vast expanse.
But as the machine stood ready, a challenge remained: finding someone to navigate the Time Loop. Despite humanity’s achievements, no one has ever bridged time. So, the unused TimeGraph stood as a monument to our audacious efforts, its web of lights and circuits an enduring symbol. Meanwhile, the Brotherhood of Adam, with snakes twisted in union, showcased the fine line between creation and annihilation.
Since the age of twelve, I’ve harboured a secret ability, one I never even whispered to Shariya. I could journey through time, albeit only in thought. This power, both blessing and burden, remained locked away, for the danger of misuse loomed large. Then, after a dream so vivid it felt like a memory, I awoke to realise I had travelled through time in my mind.
Gradually, I refined this talent, flitting through history, always watching, never touching. A treasured journey took me to the night my parents first met. Streetlights cast a soft aura, the city murmured, and my mother’s laughter shimmered in the darkness. I witnessed the near-miss: my father’s speeding vehicle nearly ending my mother’s story. That twist of fate knit their lives together, and soon after, they united in marriage.
Throughout the years, the past opened its doors to me, but the future remained elusive and unpredictable. My voyages held a limitation: I could observe but never touch; my mind wandered while my body stayed behind. And that’s why I yearned for the TimeGraph.
As the train halted, I prepared to disembark, but a sudden grip on my hand stopped me. I spun around to face the same woman from earlier, her smile both enigmatic and inviting. Confusion clouded my mind. Was she seeking charity? Reaching for my wallet, I offered her some money, but she dismissed it with a gesture.
“I have no interest in your money, Mr. Dharine D’Anger,” she declared, her voice laced with urgency. “It’s you we need.” With that, she tugged me off the departing train.
“First of all, my name is Asera. I am the Chief Witness.” Her voice carried a touch of humility. An image from my college days flickered in my mind. Asera… or Raesa? The name danced on the tip of my tongue, elusive. Yet, while the name felt familiar, her visage told another tale—one sculpted by the relentless hands of time.
Yet that title bore significance. The Witnesses were whispered legends, their true purpose shrouded in mystery. To the Consortium, they were a silent enigma, placed in the Yellow Zone for their lack of interference.
The Consortium sorted the city’s populace into clear categories, asserting their dominance and control. Under their vigilant gaze, the city’s heartbeat remained steady. They had three delineated sectors: the Green Zone for allies and neutrals, the Yellow Zone for those scrutinised closely, and the Red Zone for those they deemed threats. The Brotherhood of Adam, with its infamous reputation, naturally found themselves in the Red Zone.
The Witnesses, ever enigmatic with their neutrality, didn’t quite fit the Consortium’s mould. Guardians of time, they stood watch over history’s integrity, stepping in only when the timeline teetered on the edge. Their storied legacy unnerved me. And the Brotherhood, with its unpredictable strategies, left me wrestling with doubts about my allegiances.
If the Chief Witness sought me out personally, their intent must hold grave significance. I fixed my gaze on her, searching her face. “What do you want from me?”
She tilted her head slightly, a glint in her eyes. “Shouldn’t you be asking, ‘What do you want from us?’ ”
I clenched my fist. “Enough with the games. Speak — ”
Her words sliced through the tension: “I know a way you can get Shariya back,” silencing my next thought.
I studied her, searching for deceit in those unwavering eyes. But as moments passed, a gut feeling told me she might be genuine. I exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of the situation. “Just tell me my next move.”
Asera’s eyes bore into mine. “Before we tread further, there’s something from my past you should know. It’ll shed light on why this mission means so much to me.” She unfolded a tale of vendetta against the Consortium that spanned years.
“It’s not simple, what we ask of you,” she murmured, and I raised an eyebrow. She went on, “It concerns the Consortium. Most label them villains, but they’re our fragile bridge to some semblance of order. Without them, chaos would reign.”
Heat surged through me. “The Consortium robbed me of everything. They snatched Shariya away and stole my life’s work. My feelings about them? Crystal clear.”
“I know your scars, Mr. D’Anger. Yet, it’s not the Consortium that tore your world apart. The real villains? Those who sought you out today.”
It felt like a gut punch. “What are you implying?”
“We’re short on time. You must travel back—before the Brotherhood of Adam ever took root — and stop them from ever sprouting.”
“If I go back, time’s laws are clear: don’t alter events. Changing the past births an unknown future.”
“We possess a Time Buffer. It allows us to shape the reality we desire.”
“How can I be certain I’ll return?”
“There’s no certainty. But if you return, Shariya will be here.”
I blinked, stunned. “How?”
“By crafting a new reality using the Time Buffer, we’ll forge a memory file and a replica of Shariya, ensuring she never perishes.”
My voice rose. “A clone? That’s not truly her.”
Her frustrated sigh hinted at endless conversations like this. “It will be. Understand this: time travel can’t resurrect the dead, not the way you envision.”
“One question before I decide.”
She nodded. “Go on.”
I needed to know what I was getting myself into. “The Witnesses have stayed out of political squabbles. Why the sudden shift?”
She exhaled, a weariness in her eyes. “It’s time we stood our ground and side with what keeps our society intact.”
I nodded, resolve filling me. “I’m in.” Yet a shadow of doubt remained. Trusting the Brotherhood and Witnesses was risky. Memories of past betrayals kept me vigilant.
The moment I stepped through my door, I dialled Jouri. “I’m in.” Joining the Brotherhood wasn’t a hasty choice. It was my meticulously planned snare, designed to catch those who’d stolen my entire world. As the implications of my choice swirled in my mind, uncertainty clouded my confidence. Had I chosen the right path or merely danced to their tune?
“Good decision!” he exhaled, his voice carrying a wave of unspoken relief.
“What’s our next move?”
“I’ll be at your doorstep in half an hour.”
“See you then.”
I dialled Asera. “He’s taken the bait.”
A veneer of calm coated Asera’s voice, yet the smug undertone was unmistakable. “Perfect. We must ensure our strategy unfolds seamlessly.” We delved into the plan’s specifics, ironing out every possible wrinkle.
“I’m aware of the plan,” I snapped, her overemphasis on details grating on my nerves.
“That’s what I want to hear. Do you grasp the importance of his demise now and how it reshapes history?”
“I get it. We can’t unbalance the universe’s delicate equilibrium. I’m fully aware.”
“Alright. Brace yourself; The Contingent will breach your doors in five.”
The following moments stormed through like a tempest. The woven threads of revenge, politics, and personal grudges began to loosen and break. With each unfolding secret, a puzzle piece snapped into its slot. Yet, as clarity dawned, so did the murkiness of allies and enemies. My choices carried not only my destiny on their shoulders but also sealed the future of Goerhan and all those dear to me. Every path I walked felt like navigating a treacherous labyrinth, with each turn having its own repercussions.
Jouri approached with silent steps. Just as I reached for the door of his turbo car, the Contingent, the military muscle of the Consortium, surrounded us. His eyes transformed from calm to stormy, fixating on me with an accusing stare. His hand darted to the ignition, but before he could start the car, a massive boulder crashed onto it, rendering him motionless.
Soldiers yanked Jouri from the wreckage. Asera, emerging from the soldiers’ ranks, knelt beside the blood-spattered Jouri. She leaned in, her words a mere breath against his ear, before the laser gun in her hand flashed. Silence followed.
She turned her attention to me, her gaze icy. “Well done, Dharine. You served your purpose. Now, onto the next step.”
Her eyes held a fleeting glint of mischief, and my instincts screamed danger. But before my brain could process it, the chilling bite of a blade tore into my side. Shock forced a gasp from my lips, my hand desperately trying to stem the tide of warmth spilling from the wound.
“Why?”
“For the agony you caused. Recall our time in college? The innocent girl you manipulated, then bragged about to all?” Fire danced in Asera’s eyes, her voice laced with venom. "Recognise me now, Dharine? Or has memory forsaken you?”
Terror gripped me. “Raesa?” Memories flooded in: shared secrets, laughter echoing in the dorms, stolen moments. But then came the shadows, the betrayal, her tearful gaze, and the aftermath’s whispers.
“You abandoned me, and I swore on my father’s name in the Consortium that I’d avenge the hurt. After graduation, I joined the system. I almost had you ten years ago, but you escaped death. That escape fanned the flames of my hatred. Hearing about your sighting in Goerhan was fate’s gift. Now, you bleed out, all according to plan.”
Blood loss clouded my thoughts, but I managed to choke out, “I … regret it all.”
Her smirk was merciless. “Your regret is a decade and a half overdue, Dharine.”
Darkness threatened my vision, memories swirling—Shariya, the enigmatic MindCode, choices made, and the profound regret of paths not taken.
Word spread rapidly through Goerhan about Dharine’s death. Tears streamed down faces as many grieved for a mind once full of genius while hushed voices discussed the tangled tales of revenge and betrayal causing his end. The Consortium, stronger than before, held its control, but unease and thoughts of rebellion festered beneath the surface. Stories circulated about Dharine’s MindCode, his deep affection for Shariya, and his complex ties with the Brotherhood and the Witnesses, painting a picture of the delicate dance between ambition, power, and heartfelt emotions.
As time flowed on, the once-lost MindCode emerged again, shining brightly as a symbol of hope for many. Power structures trembled, giving birth to new partnerships while old bonds shattered. Tales of Dharine’s journey became lessons, making Goerhan’s people reflect on the steep costs of ambition and the depth of human emotions. At Goerhan’s core, a statue stood tall, honouring not only Dharine’s creation of the MindCode but also the deep sacrifices made in the quest for knowledge and affection. With each passing year, his life story grew into a legendary lesson on love, ambition, betrayal, and the unpredictable twists of destiny.
