Why me?" I asked, barely above a whisper.
Evelyn's eyes softened for just a moment, an emotion flickering behind her resolute facade. "Because only you can stop this," she said, her voice soft but filled with unshakable certainty. "The future depends on it."
I barely had time to process her words, let alone respond. A low rumble grew beneath my feet, vibrating through my bones. The ground beneath us began to dissolve, disintegrating like sand slipping through fingers. I looked down, watching in stunned disbelief as cracks splintered out from beneath my feet. Above us, the sky shattered like glass, its fragments breaking apart and twisting like reflections in a broken mirror.
My heart pounded in my chest. This wasn't just Evelyn's madness—it was real, and it was happening right now.
Before I could react, Evelyn shoved something cold and heavy into my hand. I looked down to see a small device—roughly the size of my palm, its surface covered in intricate circuits and glowing symbols. Evelyn's fingers wrapped tightly around mine, as if she were transferring her urgency through that touch.
"Now, Ryan," she said, her voice dropping from desperation to pleading. "Before it's too late."
"What am I supposed to—" But I didn't get the chance to finish. The air around us warped, twisting and distorting like a heatwave in midsummer, but far more violent. The sky itself seemed to convulse, splitting further as if two realities were colliding.
Suddenly, the device in my hand flared to life, heat radiating through my skin. My legs buckled beneath me, and Evelyn's grip tightened as we both sank to the collapsing ground. The air buzzed with an electric hum, and the world around us blurred into a streak of color and light.
I heard her voice one last time, the urgency still there but tinged with something else—regret? Fear? It was impossible to tell.
"Hold on."
And then everything erupted into white-hot light, brighter than anything I had ever seen. It engulfed us both in an instant. There was a rush of wind, the kind that knocks the breath out of you, and the sound of reality itself tearing apart filled my ears.
When the light finally subsided, I found myself floating. No solid ground beneath my feet, no sky above me—just an expanse of shimmering nothingness, stretching out in every direction. My body felt weightless, as though I had been untethered from any sense of gravity or time.
Beside me, Evelyn floated too, her figure hazy but still present. The device in my hand still buzzed faintly, its glow fading in the ethereal space.
"What... is this place?" My voice echoed strangely, as if the space itself absorbed the sound before returning it.
Evelyn, still catching her breath, didn't look at me right away. Her eyes were focused ahead, at something I couldn't see.
"This is the in-between," she finally said, her voice quiet, as if the act of speaking took effort. "The space between timelines, universes… a place that exists and doesn't exist."
Her words sent a shiver down my spine. I had spent years studying physics, trying to wrap my head around the concept of multiple realities and dimensions. But this—this was beyond theory, beyond anything I could've imagined.
"Why are we here?" I asked, still gripping the now-cool device.
Evelyn turned to face me, and there was something different in her eyes. The desperation was still there, but it was now mixed with something else—sorrow, or maybe guilt.
"This is the only place we can fix it," she said. "Out there, everything is collapsing. The timelines are unraveling. If we don't act now—if you don't act—everything, everyone, will cease to exist."