Page 97 of Chasing Eternity

This is a crucial moment—the discovery of the Antikythera Mechanism, an ancient Greek analog computer that can predict astronomical events, and ultimately control time, waits to be discovered. It’s up to me to switch it out with a fake.

Amid the chaos and danger, I know Tasha is out there somewhere, risking everything to see this thing through. Failure is not an option, and I can’t—won’t—let her down.

“Are you ready for this?” Keane’s voice cuts through the wind whipping at my feet.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” I reply, the words feeling heavy in my mouth.

“You have two hours,” Keane reminds me. “If you overstay your visit, you’re on your own.”

I nod, feeling the familiar surge of adrenaline that comes with each Trip into the past. My hand tightens around the small device in my pocket—a fake Mechanism, crafted with meticulous precision and entrusted to me by Tasha herself.

Suddenly, the lights flicker as the ground beneath me begins to shake. When the air fills with choking sulfur and a thick cloud of vapor threatens to swallow me whole, I know there’s no turning back. My destiny has finally arrived, and all I can do is embrace whatever fate awaits me.

This is the culmination of my entire life’s journey—every single event has led to this moment.

A deafening roar shatters through the room. My body freezes in anticipation as a blinding white light explodes toward the swirling vapor, crashes into the mist, and morphs into a shimmering gateway.

Gasping for air as gravity gives out, I’m hoisted into the unknown, ultimately landing on the rocky shores of Antikythera Island.

The salty tang of the Aegean Sea assaults my senses. The waves crashing against the jagged cliffs fill the air with an ancient, primal energy. The sun beats down relentlessly, casting harsh shadows across the barren landscape, a stark reminder of the land’s unforgiving nature.

I take a moment to orient myself, scanning the horizon for any sign of danger. In the distance, a group of sponge divers can be seen preparing their gear. This is it—the moment they discover the shipwreck that will lead them to the Mechanism.

I move cautiously toward them, keeping a low profile. My heart beats frantically as I approach, adrenaline coursing through my veins. I watch as they descend into the crystal-clear waters below. Time is ticking, and I need to act fast.

Ducking behind a large rock formation, I wait for the perfect moment. Minutes stretch on endlessly as I observe the divers resurfacing with fragments of bronze and marble. The excitement in the air is palpable—they’re getting closer.

Finally, one of them emerges from the depths, holding a corroded piece of metal—an integral part of the Antikythera Mechanism. The moment has arrived, and all I can think about is Tasha’s safety and my hopes that our joined efforts won’t be in vain.

Determination propelling me forward, I stride confidently toward the group, my hand gripping tightly to the fake Mechanism hidden in my pocket. Ignoring their bewildered stares, I greet them in the bit of Greek I’ve carefully practiced.

The divers exchange curious glances but ultimately nod, too engrossed in their discovery to question me further. As they gather their artifacts, I edge closer, my heart racing with a mix of anxiety and excitement. Tasha’s trusting gaze flashes through my mind, spurring me toward our objective.

Time dilates, stretching into an agonizing eternity as I maneuver into position. My heart pounds, each beat reverberating through my body like a drum. The fake Mechanism burns like a branding iron against my skin.

Just as I reach the edge of the rocky outcrop, the ground beneath me crumbles away. I lurch forward, grasping for anything to hold on to, but it’s too late. The Mechanism slips from my grasp and tumbles into the abyss.

Panic surges through me, fear clawing at my throat as I scramble to retrieve it. Dirt and rocks cling to my fingers like leeches, hindering my movements. But I can’t give up now.

Finally righting myself, I move toward the edge, eyes straining to see where it fell. There, a glint of metal catches the light. It’s precariously balanced on a narrow ledge just within reach.

With renewed determination, I inch forward, lowering myself carefully down the rocky slope. The jagged edges cut into my palms, but I push through the pain.

Finally, my fingers brush against the Mechanism and I grab it, clutching it tightly as I haul myself back up.

Standing once more on solid ground, I begin to make the switch, my trembling hands barely able to hold steady. Adrenaline courses through me, sharpening my senses and drowning out all sound.

I take one last glance around to ensure no one is watching. The divers continue their work, oblivious to my actions. Every second feels like an eternity as I brush my fingers against the fake mechanism one final time, its cold surface a stark contrast to the heat of my skin.

But just as I’m about to make the exchange, a looming shadow falls over me.

My blood runs cold. I’ve been caught in the act.

The air thickens with tension, every sound amplified as I try to think of a way out.

But there is none.

I’m trapped, exposed, consumed by shame as I’m forced to come face-to-face with my failure.