Out Of Time, Out Of Luck

Temporal Bureau HQ – Unknown Location, 1:13 AM

Riley Cross hated waking up confused—especially when her head throbbed like she’d partied with a sledgehammer.

She groaned, blinking against the bright fluorescent lights. A sterile room surrounded her—metal walls, glowing monitors, and a distinct “Top-Secret Government” vibe.

“Great. Kidnapped by Time Cops,” she muttered.

“You’re welcome,” came a familiar, dry voice.

Agent Theo Hale. Still annoyingly attractive, still glaring like she personally ruined his week.

Riley sat up, cradling her head. “So… time travel is real, my dad was a secret agent, and now murder robots want me dead. Did I miss anything?”

Theo folded his arms. “You’re handling this too well.”

“Trauma’s easier with sarcasm.”

A door slid open. In walked a woman with sleek silver hair, crisp military posture, and an air of authority.

“This is her?” the woman asked, eyeing Riley like she was a broken toaster.

Theo nodded. “Riley Cross. James’s daughter.”

The woman’s expression softened—just a bit. “I’m Director Evelyn Voss. Your father was one of our best… before he disappeared.”

“Yeah, I’m getting that a lot,” Riley said. “What happened to him?”

Director Voss hesitated. “That’s classified.”

Riley huffed. “Of course it is.”

Theo cut in. “What’s more urgent is the Clockwork Syndicate—they won’t stop hunting you.”

“Cool, love that for me,” Riley deadpanned. “So, what—witness protection? New identity? Can I pick the name?”

“Actually,” Voss said, “you’re staying here. You’re our best lead to finding your father… and stopping the Syndicate’s next move.”

Of course. Because life couldn’t get simpler.

Riley followed Theo through the Bureau’s sprawling underground base. Temporal gates hummed, agents in sleek uniforms ran diagnostics, and mission briefings flashed across holographic screens.

“So, how long until I get a cool laser gun?” Riley asked.

Theo sighed. “This isn’t a movie.”

“Clearly. The snacks here are terrible.”

They stopped in a training room—an empty chamber with shifting metallic walls.

“Activate combat simulation,” Theo ordered.

The walls flickered, transforming into a 1920s speakeasy. Jazz music floated through the air.

Riley blinked. “Okay… kinda cool.”

“You want to survive? Learn fast,” Theo warned.

A robotic figure materialized—Clockwork Syndicate armor, weapons glowing red.

Riley swallowed. “Uh… do I get a weapon?”

Theo tossed her a stun baton. “Don’t die.”

Great pep talk.

The bot lunged. Riley yelped, barely dodging. She swung wildly—missed—and crashed into a holographic table.

“Okay, maybe I need—ACK!”

The bot grabbed her jacket, lifting her like a ragdoll.

Theo rolled his eyes. “Amateur.”

He moved—blindingly fast—disarming the bot and sending it crashing to the ground.

“Show-off,” Riley muttered.

But beneath the snark… she felt it. The stir of something deeper.

Her father had trained here. If she wanted answers—and survival—she needed to do the same.

Later that night, Riley sat alone in her new quarters, turning the time anchor over in her hands.

Why had her dad hidden this from her? And why did it feel like a ticking bomb?

A soft chime echoed. The device glowed, projecting a flickering hologram.

Her breath caught.

“Dad…”

James Cross looked older than she remembered—tired, wary—but his voice was steady.

“Riley… if you’re seeing this, I failed. The Clockwork Syndicate… they’re trying to rewrite history—and I can’t stop them alone. Trust Theo. He’s rough around the edges, but he’ll protect you.”

He hesitated. “And there’s one more thing. The Hitlist—it’s real. You need to find it before they do. It’s the key to everything.”

The message cut out.

Riley sat frozen. The Hitlist? What the hell was that?

Before she could process, her door slid open.

“You okay?” Theo asked.

She nodded slowly. “Yeah. Just… realizing my life’s officially insane.”

His expression softened—barely. “Get some rest. Tomorrow, we track the Syndicate.

Riley had a choice—run from the truth, or chase it through time.

And she wasn’t the running type.

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