Chapter Text
With the usual stumble, Eve magically crossed the door, followed by Flynn. The Librarians-in-training had gone ahead to investigate.
As they'd read in the scrapbook a few hours earlier, something strange was happening in a town on the outskirts of Sicily; an unusual flow of temporal magic had been reported, intercepting an irregularity in the ley lines, or as Eve had mentally simplified it, random objects had been damaged as if they were decades older in a single night.
It didn't seem risky at all, so while the others went to investigate, she and Flynn stayed behind to finish cataloging some relatively dangerous artifacts, but a phone call from Cassandra had forced them to rush.
"Where are you?" Eve asked, still holding the phone to her ear.
—I think it was a warehouse or something. I couldn't see much while they locked us in— Cassandra replied on the other end of the line— wait, Ezekiel is doing something.
Eve and Flynn were quickly entering the town. The others had called them because someone was chasing them with strange weapons and now they were trapped somewhere in that town, but that wasn't what worried the guardian.
—There you go, Ezekiel has sent you our geolocation— Cassandra spoke again, anxiously.
—Cass, what's going on?— Eve asked as they headed in the direction the sudden map on her phone indicated.
—I don't know, Jacob crossed a bow and is now an old man!
—What do you mean, an old man?— Flynn asked, sticking close to Eve’s phone.
—Hey, mate, he's literally an old man— it was Ezekiel's voice —he crossed over and now he's a man with reeds and wrinkled like a raisin.
The telephone signal was very unstable, with only a few stutters.
—Don't let anyone come near that again, Flynn and I are almost there.
—Hurry up.... conveyor belt.... Jacob—she couldn't understand Ezekiel but Cassandra added something else, to which only one word reached them: "Reapers."
It was useless to continue trying to communicate, something would interfere.
—What does 'reapers' mean?— Eve asked without stopping.
—I don't know much about them, but they're flying creatures that sneak into our reality through temporal paradoxes. That would explain the strange temporal activity, although I've never seen what they look like...
—Flynn! — Eve shouted, pushing him aside just in time to avoid being eaten by some giant scaled bat. — I think you know what they look like, now run!
Their attempt to escape from the reaper, although successful, caught the attention of the group of hired thugs who had caught the other three Librarians. Within minutes, they found themselves trapped as well. At least, as they had been able to verify on the phone, they were in the same warehouse as the rest of the team. It was a huge place with the sound of industrial machinery in the background, everything was filled with crates and wooden pallets. The floor began to move, which made them realize they were on a conveyor belt that was several meters wide. The crates blocked their path, so they moved in the only direction they could, where the conveyor belt was taking them. It took them forward a few meters and then stopped again regularly.
After a while, dodging smaller boxes, they saw the redhead and the Australian, who had been moving every time the belt advanced to avoid passing through a large metal arch that was around them right in front of them.
—Eve, thank goodness! Where did you get in?— she approached Cassandra in anguish.
—They've caught us, that entrance is blocked— said Eve —and Stone?
—I'm sorry to say that there— Ezekiel pointed to the other side of the arch.
On the other side, right where the conveyor belt ended, was a man who looked a little older than Jenkins (assuming he wasn't immortal); he had a mane of gray hair almost entirely covered in age, and his skin was slightly wrinkled with age. Eve could tell without a doubt the old man was Jacob because of his blue eyes, although somewhat glassy and covered by thin glasses.
—Eve, there's a device here— the old man said slowly from the other side —I think it controls the bow.
The ground shook again and the guard had to pull Flynn away, who had obviously approached the arch from too close a distance.
—Be careful, everything that crosses the arch ages several decades—Cassandra explained.
—It seems to act as a catalyst for the rappers' energy, they use it to age all this merchandise—Flynn confirmed.
—If we don't deactivate it soon, we'll be next,— Ezekiel added, pointing at the crate that had just passed through the archway; the wood had darkened, the labels on the wine bottles inside had turned yellowish, and it smelled strongly of old, stale alcohol.
—Can you describe the device?— Flynn shouted, trying to see into the distance.
— It's like a box...— Stone began slowly.
—Anything more specific?— he grew impatient.
—...with buttons and switches... and numbers.
The crates were starting to pile up behind them, ready to push them across.
—Lucky Stone was in good health— Flynn began.
—What do you mean?— Eve asked.
—That thing doesn't age as such, it makes you advance in time— he explained —we already know that if the timelines don't change too much, Stone will live quite a while and without noticeable physical problems.
—What are you saying?— Stone asked, raising his voice from the other side.
—Well, a bit of luck, but nothing more, it seems.
Eve noticed Cassandra. She had turned paler than usual and was standing as far away as possible, her eyes on the bow, so she approached her. She looked even more scared now.
—Eve...— the girl whispered in anguish —I'm not healthy.
Everyone remained silent for a few seconds, assimilating it.
—I don't have that much time— he continued, his eyes growing misty. —I could never match Stone's age. If I cross the arch, my tumor will kill me before I can age.
The tape continued to advance, and in a few minutes it would be inevitable to cross, so everyone began to hurriedly search for an exit, even Stone, slowly trying to disconnect the device. Everyone moved quickly except for Cassandra, who had frozen, probably with more data than she could process and breathing heavily.
—There's a lever!— Stone exclaimed as loudly as he could. —I think it controls the passage of time in this thing.
She tried with all her might to pull it down, but her aging muscles weren't enough. After a moment of consideration, Eve decided she would take charge of the lever herself. When she was about to take Flynn across, he grabbed her wrist in concern, warning her that it was too great a risk, but he couldn't stop her. She was healthy and strong; that was enough to strengthen her resolve. She picked up a little sprint and ran for the cross. She was barely across when Flynn squeezed his eyes shut and crossed beside her.
—Flynn! It was a needless risk for you to cross too— she scolded him when they were across.
—Are we old now?— he asked, his eyes still tightly closed.
—You haven't aged!— Ezekiel was surprised. —Why haven't you aged?
—Is it already disconnected?— Cassandra asked with a bit of hope. —Uh, what...
"Wait," Eve said carefully. She approached Flynn. They both looked the same age, nothing like Stone's advanced years, but their clothes had changed. Eve's hair was noticeably longer, and Flynn had a bit of a beard.
—I feel the same, except for the clothes— he said.
Eve held his face in her hands, scrutinizing him closely. Flynn's crow's feet were slightly more pronounced, and a few new gray hairs had appeared hidden. Eve smiled; she'd never seen him with a beard before, and she found it interesting because it suited him quite well.
—It's like only two or three years have passed— she told him, slowly letting go of him. And before Flynn could ask how she knew, she added, —I know your face well enough to notice any small change.
He rang the bell and then noticed his new facial hair. —Do I have a beard?
Eve would have laughed at that if the tape hadn't started moving again, and Cassandra and Ezekiel's slight shock at its stumble forced them to act. They ran to Stone's side, ready to pull the lever. Flynn must have seen something odd about the numbers on the device because he stood still for a few seconds but said nothing, following Eve. They pulled the lever, and it suddenly dropped with a loud bang. Somewhere in the warehouse, an alarm began to blare deafeningly. They heard shouts outside; the men who had locked them in were coming in, having heard the alarm.
—You have to cross!— the old man shouted over all the noise.
—But what if you haven't reversed the effect?— Cassandra snapped. Only she knew how bad her tumor was. She hadn't told them that she probably only had months to live.
—I promise you'll be okay— Stone told her, his voice calm and reassuring, not just because of the seriousness he'd taken on with age —I'm sure.
Deep down, Flynn also had a feeling it would turn out all right. "After all," he thought, "our bodies have moved forward in time, so they've already experienced this, even if our minds haven't yet."
There was a knock at the back door through which they had been brought in, they had to go through now.
Eve took Flynn's hand, the possibility of seeing Cassandra die in a few seconds, however small, kept her from breathing.
Ezekiel gestured for Cassandra, who looked like she was about to cry, to cross with him. They jumped, and within seconds, everyone was stunned.
—They should have gone back two years— Flynn muttered.
Two small children stood in front of them.
—They've grown at least twenty years younger— Eve said, running over. Cassandra was still pouting as if she were about to cry; she barely reached Eve's waist, so she must have been about six or seven. Beside her, a baby, about three years old at most, looked curiously up, not trying to get up from where he was sitting.
—We have to go!— Flynn tried to announce over the sound of the alarms and the banging of the men who seemed to be approaching.
Eve picked up Cassandra to try to calm her down.
—Take Ezekiel, we're leaving—he said firmly.
—Wait— said the aged Stone, and without giving them time to respond, he crossed the arch for the second time in the opposite direction.
He instantly looked several decades younger, even younger than when they had first met him, with shoulder-length hair with a healthy shine and smooth skin, he must have been in his thirties.
After a few stunned seconds, he looked down at his hands, young again—much better this way, Flynn! You know how it works, just leave the lever in the middle.
The Librarian, who was already holding little Ezekiel, tried to move the lever so Stone could return and everyone could leave through the second exit, but some kind of safety lock had blocked the system. Footsteps were heard approaching.
—Jacob, we have to go! — Eve shouted —Now!
—Fuck...— he growled to himself before crossing back.
A nine-year-old boy stared suspiciously at Eve, who held the girl with one arm and grabbed little Jacob with the other, pulling him along. They ran just long enough for the men to avoid catching them.