Temporal Gate Chamber – Bureau HQ, 8:00 AM
Riley adjusted her new tactical jacket, still getting used to the weight of the time anchor clipped to her belt.
"So… 1984? Big hair, leg warmers, and—what?—killer time criminals?" she quipped.
Theo didn’t bite. "A Syndicate agent breached the timeline. If they alter history, we all pay the price."
Director Voss stood by the shimmering temporal gate, arms crossed. "You two will locate and neutralize the rogue agent. No mistakes."
Riley raised an eyebrow. "Define 'neutralize.'"
"Prevent timeline corruption. Capture if possible—eliminate if necessary," Voss clarified coldly.
"Comforting," Riley muttered, stepping toward the glowing portal.
Theo followed. "Stay close, Cross. If you get lost in time, I’m not coming after you."
"Aw, you do care," she teased—just before the gate swallowed them whole.
They landed in a neon-lit alley, the buzz of a distant arcade machine and the faint sound of Prince’s *Purple Rain* filling the air.
Riley smirked. "Nice. At least the music’s good."
Theo scanned the area with a sleek chrono-detector. "We track the temporal disturbance, find the Syndicate agent, and get out."
Riley rolled her eyes. "And here I thought we’d grab milkshakes."
The chrono-detector beeped sharply. Theo stiffened. "They’re close."
They emerged onto a bustling street—a chaotic blend of punk rockers, Wall Street yuppies, and flashing neon signs. Across the road, a woman in a sleek black coat glanced back—her eyes glinting unnaturally.
"There." Theo pointed.
Riley moved. "I’ve got her."
"Wait—!" Theo barked.
Too late. Riley sprinted into the crowd.
Riley weaved through pedestrians, heart pounding. The Syndicate agent darted into a nightclub. Riley followed, pushing past bouncers and stepping into a world of smoke, strobe lights, and deafening synth music.
The agent vanished.
"Dammit," she hissed.
Theo appeared beside her. "I said—"
"Yeah, yeah. Bad plan," Riley huffed. "Where is she?"
The chrono-detector flared. Above them.
Riley barely had time to react before the agent dropped from the rafters, landing with cat-like grace.
"You’re not Bureau," the woman said, voice low and smooth.
Riley raised her stun baton. "And you’re not supposed to be here."
The agent smirked. "Catch me if you can."
She tossed a temporal grenade. The air shimmered.
Riley dove, dragging Theo down as the blast warped reality. When the distortion faded, the agent was gone.
Back at their hideout—a dingy motel room—Riley paced. "She knew we were coming. How?"
Theo leaned against the wall, jaw clenched. "Someone’s leaking intel."
Riley shook her head. "Or… she’s after something bigger. What if it’s connected to the Hitlist?"
Theo hesitated, his expression unreadable. "That’s classified."
"Of course it is," Riley snapped. "But my father left me that message for a reason. What aren’t you telling me?"
For a moment, the mask slipped. "The Hitlist isn’t just names—it’s targets. People whose existence threatens the Syndicate’s goals."
Riley’s blood ran cold. "And my dad’s on it."
Theo met her gaze. "And now? So are you."
The past was dangerous—but the truth could be deadly.
And Riley was just getting started.
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