The explosion came with three seconds' warning.
Not that it mattered. Marcus Williams had already made his choice the moment he spotted the telltale glint of copper wire beneath the Afghan dust. His team was too close, too focused on the compound ahead to notice the IED's signature. Time seemed to slow as his mind calculated distances, blast radiuses, and survival odds with the cold precision that had made him one of SEAL Team Six's most effective operators.
"Contact left!" he barked, already in motion. The familiar weight of his modified M4 found its home against his shoulder as he pushed off his right foot, cutting between Lieutenant Cooper and Chief Hayes. Their expressions hadn't even registered surprise when Marcus slammed into the trigger point.
The world erupted.
Heat and pressure crashed over him like a physical wave, lifting his 220-pound frame as if it were made of paper. The last thing he heard was Cooper's voice, somehow cutting through the deafening roar: "Williams, no!"
Then came the darkness. Not the darkness of unconsciousness – Marcus had experienced that enough times to know the difference. This was deeper, absolute. Final. The kind of darkness that came with certainty, with knowing that his body lay scattered across a hundred feet of Afghan soil while his team lived on.
*Worth it*, he thought, letting the darkness take him. Then, impossibly, there was light.
A soft blue glow pierced the void, resolving into a form that both was and wasn't there. Marcus felt no fear, no confusion. Just a profound sense of completion. Of a mission accomplished.
"Marcus Williams." The voice carried neither gender nor age, yet held authority that made his seventeen years of military service feel like a child's play-acting. "Your choice was noted."
"My team?" The question came without conscious thought.
"Lives. All of them. As they will continue to do, thanks to your sacrifice." The presence shifted, somehow conveying approval without expression. "It is because of this choice that you are here, now. That you have earned what comes next."
"Sir?" The honorific slipped out automatically, ingrained by years of service.
"Humanity faces a threat. One that will emerge not in your time, but in your past. Three months from now, in the year 2020, a contagion will be released. It will end civilization as humanity knows it." The presence paused. "Unless someone with the right knowledge, the right training, and the right character is there to make a difference."
Understanding dawned. "You're offering me a second chance."
"More than that. A chance to save not just your team, but millions. You will return with... advantages. Limited ones. Enough to make a difference, if used wisely. Not enough to guarantee success." The glow intensified. "The choice, as always, is yours."
Marcus didn't hesitate. Couldn't hesitate. It was the same choice he'd made a lifetime ago when he first enlisted. The same choice he'd made moments ago over that IED.
"I'm in."
The light flared, becoming a sun, becoming everything. As consciousness faded, Marcus heard the presence's final words:
"Remember – you have three months. Make them count."
The darkness returned, but this time it felt different. This time it felt like beginning.
This time, Marcus Williams was going home.