Chapter Text
Prologue - Anomaly Y1-N
Sickly sweet-smelling pine filled the large circular room you found yourself in, large domed lights flickered in their casings above as they bathed the area in a warm yellow glow. Wooden panels lined the walls around you, stretching from floor to ceiling. Their pristine surfaces broken up only by the odd intricate carving etched into its surface; painting abstract depictions of the sacred timeline and the wonders of the cosmos.
You had been led into the centre of the room and sat at a lone desk as per the usual protocol, the sturdy oak doors that signified the only entrance and exit quickly locked behind you as your guide made their hasty retreat. It was strangely quiet in the circular evaluation room you had come to dread, the suffocating blanket of nothingness punctuated only by an unplaceable repetitive clicking and a low buzzing of the old CRT monitor that sat before you, its yellowing aged keyboard tilted to the side and prying for your attention.
Heaving a heavy sigh, you leaned forwards in the old rickety chair, your eyes narrowed in on the small glowing characters in front of you.
‘Press any key to begin employee evaluation.’
Hitting the spacebar, you refrained from jumping out of your chair as the flickering model of Miss Minutes appeared before you, the computer screen glitching back to black as it drew its power from the old model and manifested itself to be levitating in the air.
“Anomaly Y1-N” Miss Minutes greets with a bright and overly cheery disposition. “Are you ready for your evaluation?”
You rolled your eyes as you leaned back against the chair, your arms curling in on themselves as you shrugged half-heartedly.
It was no secret that you had never enjoyed the evaluation process that came with working for the TVA. You had always found the meetings to be too clinical as they sought to pry into your innermost thoughts and focused less on your performance and mental health within the strange environment you existed within. It didn’t help that unlike the other members of staff that roamed the never-ending halls of the TVA, you were different, your life not created by the timekeepers but instead ‘retrieved’ and ‘stored’ within the self-contained bubble they had manifested to oversee the proper flow of time.
As you were reminded regularly by your fellow colleagues and superiors, you weren’t a variant of the timeline but a strange glitch in the unravelling of times intricate threads. An anomaly of the timeline, a chaotic mistake that had no beginning or end.
Or so you had been told. It was hard to gain the information you needed to process the strange loop you found yourself in. With no memories apart from the monotonous days of the TVA, it was hard not to believe the story that they spun you. Especially so when there was no evidence to refute it.
“Come on now.” Miss Minutes pried as it hopped from one foot to another, its hands splayed wide as it encouraged you to leave your shell of self-pitying thoughts. “You know I require a verbal indication that you are happy to proceed.”
Inhaling sharply, you inclined your head and focused instead on navigating your way through the pointless barrage of questions that made up yet another TVA tick box exercise.
“I’m ready.” You uttered with mild discontent.
“Great!” Miss Minutes exclaimed, its pitch causing you to wince as you shifted in your seat and propped your elbows against the table’s edge. “Please state your current position.”
“Archivist.” You relayed, your eyes following the small animated figure as it nodded slowly in agreement.
“And your supervisor?”
“Archivist A768”
“Perfect.” Miss Minutes smiled as its small gloved hands shifted into a thumbs-up gesture. “How do you find your current position?”
“Well, it’s a step up from cleaning the bathrooms.” You drawled sarcastically, as you glanced around the room with an air of boredom.
Noticing the disapproving stare from the character before you, you sighed.
“It’s interesting. I don’t think I will ever come to terms with the fact that the tapes we are archiving and compiling are actual moments from people’s lives across the timeline.” You lamented, your head shaking side to side in disbelief. “It’s surreal.”
Your second answer seemed to have satiated Miss Minute’s curiosity, her eyebrows drawing inwards as a small collection of folders popped into existence at the tip of her finger. A pulsing orange glow emanated out from the floating intelligence as it seemingly drew on more power, bathing you in its light.
“Archivist A768 has logged an insubordination report-”
“Of course he did.” You rolled your eyes in exasperation, having already anticipated the possible change in subject.
“-stating that you entered a restricted library without a valid written release request.” Miss Minutes continued, ignoring your interjection as she selected one of the many digital files, the report in question manifesting itself before your eyes.
Scanning the lines of floating text, you frowned as you took note of the in-depth detail that your superior had decided to go into. He was a jobsworth in the kindest of ways, serving the TVA through thick and thin while being happy to throw his colleagues into the line of fire for the sake of a progression up the never-ending rungs of the promotion ladder.
Admittedly you had been caught red-handed in one of the few restricted zones, your excuse half baked as you scrambled to come up with some reason to explain your presence.
A reason other than the burning desire and curiosity to explain your very existence, to provide answers to the strange voice that poised questions in the back of your head and to dive deeper into the secrets that formed the TVA to uncover the truth.
If there even was a truth. The strange voice that resonated within you that you subsequently had decided to blindly follow on a moments whim wasn't the most reliable of sources.
“It was an accident!” You answered tightly, recycling the same excuse you had peddled when you had been caught the first time. “I took the wrong turn. You should really start colour coding the shelving systems as it all looks the same and it’s only going to happen again.”
In hindsight, it really was a bit of a stretch to imply that you had accidentally wandered into the restricted file area when said action involved deliberately swiping A768’s access card and forging a request form.
But then again, hindsight is a wonderful thing.
Fidgeting in your seat, your hands clenched into fists as you stared in amused disbelief at the floating character before you. Unfortunately, your nonchalant persona failed to eventuate as the muscles in your throat tightened and your palms began to turn clammy, your heartbeat soaring as you tried to play off the incident as nothing more than an insignificant error.
Alas, the sentient robot intelligence stroke time overseer cartoon character seemed to have your book written before you had even touched pen to paper. Raising a single eyebrow, you withered under its cold empty gaze and glanced back towards the doors on the other side of the room, your mind already fearing the consequences that could come from accentuating any further lies.
‘They know.’
“Sweetheart.” Miss Minutes sighed in a tone you took to be condescending. “How many times does it need to be explained? You aren’t a variant. You don’t exist on the sacred timeline, so you-”
“Don’t have a tape.” You sighed in defeat, your head falling to stare down at your standard issued brown suede boots. The hairs on the back of your neck rose as you admitted to knowingly infiltrating the area, a strange niggling sensation curling in the pit of your stomach as your senses inadvertently became heightened in anticipation of recompense.
Miss Minutes smiled sadly as she nodded in agreement, her image flickering as she disappeared and reappeared back beside the screen. Tapping her finger against the side of the machine, the monitor flared to life with a series of questions and answer inputs.
“The timekeepers are willing to overlook this incident.” Miss Minutes addressed as her words seem to fill the screen, filling a small box with text as she filled out the latest report on your misdeeds within the TVA.
The unspoken threat of further insubordination hung heavy in the air. You knew what the weight of your actions could cause if you continued to push against the grain, to fail to conform to the standards that had been set by the strange and unseeing force that lingered just out of your reach.
With a tight nod, you signalled your agreement, your fear of the unknown consequences weighing heavy on your soul.
“Understood” You mumbled. “It won’t happen again.”
‘Don’t trust them’
You winced as the ethereal words of an all too familiar voice echoed throughout your mind, your fingers naturally pressing to your temples as you tried to massage away the pulsating ache that developed in its wake.
Your confirmation seemed to spur Miss Minutes back into her usual interrogation process, although its cheery disposition had soured somewhat as it took note of your wince and your fingers pressed tightly against your temple. Miss Minute’s beady gaze shifted between you and the door on the far side of the room, as though it was awaiting another audience member to witness your car crash of an evaluation.
A strange sense of deja vu washed over you as the unnerving feeling of being stalked by a looming shadow of retaliation became difficult to ignore, the silence in the room becoming heavier by the second as the faint marching of minutemen boots in the hallways grew louder.
‘Something isn’t right.’
“On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your level of satisfaction here at the TVA?”
The spittle in your mouth dried up abruptly, your gaze locked onto the small flickering character as you wondered whether it would see through your lies as easily as it had unwound your previous misgivings.
“Seven” You forced, your eyebrows furrowed as you struggled to remember your previous score and ignore the rising sense of dread within you.
“That’s lower than your last score.”
“And that’s awfully observant of you.” You forced a half-hearted laugh, your chuckles dying off quickly as she remained stoic under your gaze.
The doors across the room suddenly clicked open as a pair of minutemen marched forwards into the room, their time sticks drawn and ends glowing maliciously in a wordless threat.
“Your temporal readings are high.” Miss Minutes continued, her small dainty form floating around you as she gestured down at the heavy metal brace that sat clamped around your wrist. “Have you been taking your medication?”
As if to emphasise her question, a hunter stepped forwards and placed a small paper cup with a single pill in front of you on the desk, their presence remaining nearby as they encroached your personal space and put you on edge.
‘Don’t take that!’
“What’s going on?” You asked fearfully, your legs kicking outwards as you jumped up from your chair, sending it clattering across the floor.
‘RUN NOW!’
The minutemen reacted instantly, their arms clamping down against your own as they held you in place, the buzzing ends of their time sticks too close for comfort.
Floating up to hover before you, Miss Minutes beamed brightly as she held her hands outwards in a welcoming gesture.
“We want to make sure that you’re happy here at the TVA, what with your circumstances being unique and unlike most of our other employees. The timekeepers have decided to keep a special eye on you, with regular check-ins and medicals to ensure that you are happy with your current state of existence!”
You flinched as the minuteman to your right grabbed the small paper cup and brought it up towards your lips, their partner adjusting their time stick so that it hovered inches away from your neck, the threat of pruning all too real and terrifying to ignore.
‘Fight back!’
“NO!” You hissed to the voice inside your head and the glowing dead eyes of Miss Minutes. Shifting your arms, you tried and failed to pull yourself free from their iron-like grips.
Your pleas were ignored as fingers wrapped their way around your lower jaw, prying your mouth open and forcing the single gel capsule down your throat. The sharp bite of the minuteman’s fingernails on your skin caused you to cringe in pain, your hands clenching into fists as you pressed the pill against your teeth in a vain attempt to avoid its consumption.
Holding your nose and rubbing your neck like an owner would its unruly and disobedient pet, the hunters successfully forced you to swallow the bitter pill. Yanking your arms free, you pushed them away as you stumbled backwards in a mess of uncoordinated limbs, the strange medication’s effects instantaneous as your head began to swim in a disorientating fashion.
‘You didn't even fight. What’s wrong with you?’
Frowning, you felt as though your mind was disconnected from your body as the two hunters stepped forwards once more, their arms looping around your own as they collected you and supported your weight. Slumping back into their arms, you fought desperately against the oncoming darkness, your eyes downturned as the strange cuff around your wrist chimed aloud, the small display on the digital screen counting back down from the percentage it had reached previously.
Feeling drained of energy, you sought comfort in the dark spots that floated around the periphery edges of your vision as the chilling bright form of Miss Minutes swam into your field of view.
Shaking its head slowly in disappointment, the overseer to your detention tapped its small gloved finger against your shackle with a low hum of consideration.
“He’s not going to like this.”