The Genesis dawn arrived, not in sunlight, but in ripples of shifting color across the sky—pulses of aurora that shimmered like living veins. Every pulse beat from the Echelon Conflux, now nearing completion, now alive.
But not all was steady.
Within the heart of Genesis Nation, time was beginning to ache.
Jaden Cross stood beneath the scaffolding of the second Conflux Tower rising over Sector Four. The site buzzed with energy—crystal-integrated steel rising in rings, each embedded with harmonized memory-weave. Sub-agents darted in holographic patterns around him, layering code into nanofibers, scripting stories into reality.
But his mind wasn't here.
It was still trapped in the echo of his own voice from another future.
"Stop the Conflux. You're not ready."
That version of himself had looked haunted. Drained. And it hadn't just been a warning.
It had been a plea.
Lyra hovered beside him, scanning fluctuations in the temporal seam.
