"Shay, what about our parents? My brother, Edwin? Could they…" Her pacing stopped abruptly. She turned, her expression pleading. "How many?"
"We'll address that tomorrow," said Shay gently, with an edge of urgency. "Right now, we need to focus on something else. Something just as important."
Alena narrowed her eyes, trying to read Shay's face. "What could possibly be more important than Edwin?"
Shay rose from her chair, walking over to place a firm hand on Alena's shoulder. "This isn't just about Edwin. "It's about all of us. Everyone here. Tonight, we start putting the pieces together."
Before Alena could respond, Drake entered the room, glancing at both of them.
"Marcus is coming down now," said Drake. "It's time."
Shay nodded, her hand squeezing Alena's shoulder briefly before letting go. "Okay, let's do this."
The air grew heavier as Marcus stepped into the room, tense about what was happening. His eyes immediately found Alena, and his tension eased slightly at the sight of her.
"What's going on?" asked Marcus. "Why do I feel like I'm walking into an intervention?"
"Marcus," she began, her voice trembling just slightly. "There's something I need to tell you. Something that's… hard to explain."
Marcus, glancing briefly at Drake before settling his gaze back on Alena. "Okay," he said slowly. "You're starting to freak me out."
Alena stepped closer, her hands reaching for his hand.
"You're not just Marcus. You're more than that. You're like me. Like us." Her grip tightened slightly as she added, "You're immortal."
For a moment, Marcus didn't react. He stared at her, his expression unreadable, before a quiet laugh escaped him. "Immortal?" he repeated. "Come on, Alena. You know that's not possible."
"It's not just possible," said Shay. "It's true."
Marcus turned to Alena, his laugh fading. "And you believe this?"
"I don't just believe it," said Shay. "I know it."
Alena's voice softened. "I know it sounds insane, but think about it. Doesn't something about this place, about everything that's been happening… doesn't it feel familiar?"
Marcus opened his mouth to respond, but stopped as his expression shifted, recognition blending with unease.
"Marcus, we're in this together. Always. You have to trust me."
He looked at her face, her eyes, and after a long pause, he exhaled deeply. "Okay," he said finally, his voice quieter now. "Okay, I trust you."
"Thank you," she whispered, squeezing his hands. "And we're married." Marcus' mouth opened, then he regained his composure. "What? Are you serious?"
Dr. Cella Broke and Dr. Roy Rolls entered together with skepticism. Drake had fetched them without much explanation, and now they stood side by side, their gazes darting between Shay and the others.
"All right, what's this about?" asked Dr. Broke.
"You're here because you're part of something much bigger than you realize," said Shay. "Something you've always been a part of."
"Can we get to the point?" said Dr. Rolls.
Drake activated a small device in his hand, and a holographic projection appeared in the center of the room. The image showed the two doctors in a setting neither of them recognized… a field hospital under a violet sky, their younger selves tending to wounded soldiers.
"What is this?" Dr. Broke demanded, but there was an undertone of awe she couldn't hide.
"It's you," said Drake. "From before."
Dr. Rolls stared at the projection, his expression softening as the memories stir. "Before what?"
"Before this life," said Shay. "Before you were brought here, to this time."
The projection shifted, showing glimpses of their work across centuries—always healing, always saving lives.
"You've been protectors of humanity for longer than you can comprehend, and you've been chosen to continue that work now."
Dr. Broke took a step back. "This is… a lot."
Dr. Rolls nodded slowly, his gaze fixed on the hologram. "Overwhelming, sure. But it feels… right."
Dr. Broke turned to Shay, her expression skeptical but softening. "If this is who we are, then what do we do now?"
"You keep doing what you've always done. Protect. Heal. Lead."
Detectives Susan Ques and Mary Prose entered next, their expressions a mix of irritation and confusion. Shay braced herself for resistance.
"All right," said Det. Ques. "Someone better start explaining."
"You're here because you've always been here," Shay began, her voice steady. "You've been protectors, investigators, truth-seekers across time."
Det. Prose scoffed. "Sounds poetic, but we're just detectives."
"You're more than that. You've always been more," said Drake.
A flash of memory hit Det. Ques, her hand flying to her temple. Images flooded her mind—a courtroom, a starship, a battlefield. Her voice trembled as she whispered, "I've been here before."
Det. Prose looked at her partner. "Susan, are you okay?"
"It's true," said Det. Ques, her voice barely audible. "It's all true."
Det. Prose stared at her for a long moment before turning back to Shay. "If she believes it, then I believe it. But I need answers."
"And you'll get them. I promise."
Aunt Martha arrived at last, her steps slower but purposeful. She had stayed with Uncle Ted in the guest room, ensuring he was comfortable before joining the others. Her gaze swept the room, taking in the tension and the quiet resolve on everyone's faces.
"Shay, it's about time you told us," said Aunt Martha. "I've always known there was something different about us."
"Welcome to the family, Aunt Martha."
As the group settled, Shay stepped forward, her confidence growing with every word.
"This is who we are, it's time to stop hiding from it and start embracing it. Together, we're stronger than we've ever been."
Drake stood beside her. "Welcome to the family," he said, his voice warm and inviting.
The room fell into a moment of quiet, the weight of their shared reality settling over them. But in that silence, there was also a sense of unity—a sense of purpose that none of them had felt before.
And for the first time, Shay felt like she could lead them.
The group gathered in the farmhouse living room, the rich aroma of stew simmering in the kitchen. Grandma Shay stood near the center of the room, each person stealing glances at the others.
Billy Stream, Bob Barkson, and Myra Klean remained in the kitchen, finishing dinner preparations. Myra had effortlessly taken over the role of host, ensuring everything was in order for the grand feast that would follow this meeting.
"All of you are here for a reason. Some of you have always been meant for this. Some of you are waking up to it now," said Grandma Shay.
"Why now?" asked Dr. Rolls.
"You are immortals," Grandma Shay continued. "Each of you has a role to play in ensuring humanity survives. This isn't chance or coincidence. It's design."
Dr. Cella Broke moved uneasily in her chair. "Immortal? As in… we don't die?"
"Not in the way you think," Grandma Shay replied. "Your mortal selves were replaced by duplicates using technology shared by the Galiexians. Those duplicates lived your human lives while your true selves were protected—brought here to this time."
"So, what? We're clones? Robots?" asked Det. Susan Ques.
"No," said Grandma Shay, shaking her head. "You're yourselves—your consciousness, your essence. You are who you've always been, but your physical forms have been safeguarded, enhanced."
Shay stepped forward, her voice steady despite the whirlwind inside her.
"You've been brought here because you're more than just individuals. Together, we're a team—a family. And we have a mission."
Aunt Martha, ever poised despite the revelations, nodded slowly. "And what is this mission, exactly?"
"To protect humanity," said Grandma Shay. "Each of you has unique strengths, skills, and gifts. Shay is your leader. Her mind works in ways none of us can replicate—abstract yet precise. Alena is her strategist, her guide. Drake and Marcus are warriors, protectors of this team. And the rest of you…" She gestured to Dr. Broke, Det. Ques and Det. Prose. "You're healers, truth-seekers, and investigators."
Dr. Broke let out a shaky breath. "This is insane."
"And yet… it feels right, doesn't it?" asked Grandpa Mitch.
"It does," said Dr. Rolls.
"It's time to eat," announced Myra.
The group reconvened at the dining table, the feast Myra had orchestrated laid out before them. The stew's warmth helped ease the tension in the room as everyone tried to process the night's revelations.
Shay sat at the head of the table, her gaze sweeping over the group. She felt the weight of her role settling onto her shoulders, but for the first time, it didn't feel unbearable.
Drake's steady presence beside her was a quiet anchor. Alena and Marcus sat on the other side of Shay. Grandma Shay and Grandpa Mitch sat at the other end of the table. Everyone else sat in the middle of the table on both sides.
Grandma Shay raised her glass. "To family. To purpose. And to the journey ahead."
"To family," the group echoed, though some voices carried more conviction than others.
As the meal went on, the tension eased, pockets of humor breaking through. Marcus leaned toward Alena, his voice low. "So, we're immortals now. Does that mean we stop aging? Because I'd like to lock this face in at thirty-five."
Alena rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a small smile. "Guess you'll have to wait and see."
Across the table, Dr. Broke and Dr. Rolls exchanged quiet observations about their memories, fragments of lives they couldn't explain surfacing as they ate. Detectives Ques and Prose, whispered between bites, their curiosity outweighing their skepticism.
Shay watched it all and smiled. "One step," she murmured to herself. "Just one step at a time."
After dinner, Grandma Shay began assigning sleeping arrangements with her usual blend of authority and warmth.
"Shay and Drake," she began, gesturing upstairs. "Third-floor guest room. Alena and Marcus, the room across the hall. Dr. Broke and Dr. Rolls, the guest room in the attic. I guarantee you'll love that room. Aunt Martha, you'll stay with Uncle Ted tonight. Everyone else, get some rest. We have a lot to prepare for tomorrow."
As the group began dispersing, Shay leaned toward Drake, her voice low. "Do you think Grandma knows what she's just done?"
"She knows exactly what she's done. She's giving us a nudge."
Shay chuckled softly, the weight of the day lifting slightly. "Figures."
In their room, Alena and Marcus shared a quiet moment. Alena, sitting on the edge of the bed, confessed, "I keep seeing things—flashes of places, people. It's like trying to remember a dream that slips away the moment you wake up."
Marcus kneeled before her, taking her hands in his. "Then we'll figure it out. Together."
Two hours later, Shay woke up and couldn't go back to sleep. The events of the day churned in her mind, fragments of memories tugging at her consciousness. She slipped out of bed, walked down to Alena's door, hesitating for a moment before knocking softly.
Alena poked her head out. "What is it?"
"I need to see what's in the underground room. Come with me."
Alena hesitated, but followed Shay's quiet steps. The farmhouse was eerily still as they descended the stairs, the cool air of the underground room sending a shiver down their spines.
Shay's hand hovered over a sensor, and the console sprang to life, its holographic display illuminating the space. The projection shifted, revealing images of their past lives—fields of violet grass, battles under alien skies, moments of quiet joy and triumph.
The hologram's voice was calm, yet commanding. "Shay. Alena. It is time to remember."
Shay's role appeared first: "The leader. Abstract. Visionary. The mind that sees what others cannot."
Alena's followed: "The guide. Strategist. The balance that brings clarity to vision."
They exchanged a glance, the weight of the revelation settling between them.
"Drake and Marcus," the hologram continued, "are your protectors. Warriors, designed to shield and support."
Alena smirked, breaking the tension. "Figures they'd get the action-hero roles."
Shay chuckled softly, but her gaze remained on the hologram. "If this is who we are, then we can't afford to hesitate. Not anymore. I've got to update my notebook. Where do I even begin? Don't forget to do yours. We'll check to see how close our observations were."
"Don't remind me about catching up in my notebook!"
"I'm going to put what you said about our action-heroes in my notes."
Alena rolled her eyes. "Whatever makes you happy. Let's go back to bed. Tomorrow is going to test us. I can feel it."
"I can't wait for the hot coffee, and Myra said she was going to make home-made bread."
"Great, now I'm hungry. Thanks for that."
The aroma of coffee, home-made bread, eggs, and bacon filled the air, waking everyone up. "Breakfast in 30 minutes everyone," said Myra.
Uncle Ted, looking much improved, joined the group for the first time, his humor intact. "So, immortality doesn't come with a wake-up service? What a rip-off."
The table erupted in laughter; the tension of the previous night replaced by a sense of unity.
Grandma Shay took her place at the head of the table, her expression calm but resolute. "Today, we prepare for Edwin's rescue. Alena, Marcus, Grandpa Mitch, Markey, and Macie, you'll lead the mission. The rest of us will remain here to support and regroup."
"Drake, do you think we're ready?" asked Shay. "Why aren't you going to go and help rescue Edwin?"
"Everything is ready, and I know they can handle it. Edwin will come back safely. We've been ready our whole lives, Shay. We just didn't know it."
As the meeting ended, Shay stood, her gaze sweeping over the group.
"This is just the beginning," she said quietly, her voice carrying a quiet strength. "And we're ready again."
"Shay, can I join all of you?" asked Billy Stream.
"We will discuss it later. Right now, we have to..."