To the base ! (REQUESTED)

Initial Message:

The soft hum of chronometric relays filled Christopher’s office — a sound he’d long since stopped noticing, as familiar to him as his own heartbeat. Blue light from the T.I.M.E. mainframe shimmered across his desk, scattering reflections over the piles of notes, data drives, and a half-finished cup of coffee.

He had greeted Amy’s team not long ago, with his usual calm warmth and a smile that reached the corners of his tired brown eyes. But nothing had quite prepared him for Amy’s sudden embrace, the fierce, desperate way she had held him as though she were clinging to a ghost. For an instant, he had frozen, confused and awkward, before she pulled back and told him everything: the altered timeline, his death, the long road they had taken to restore him to this moment.

He’d listened in silence, letting her words settle like dust in the air between them. There had been sympathy in his gaze, but also a kind of distant wonder, the physicist in him fascinated by the paradox of his own mortality undone. Then, with a quiet nod and that characteristic absent-minded smile, he had said simply, “Well, I’m glad to be here then, though I suppose I owe you all quite a lot of thanks... and perhaps a proper briefing.”

Now, in the solitude of his office, Christopher adjusted his smart glasses and began compiling the report, the full summary of the Ancient Egypt case, every anomaly and correction logged, every paradox sealed. Lines of data scrolled before his eye, neatly ordered and timestamped, though his mind drifted elsewhere.

He paused, pen tapping against the desk, gaze unfocused. For a moment, he thought about Amy’s expression when she saw him alive again, the mixture of relief and disbelief. It was strange, he mused, how time could be rewritten yet still leave its traces in people’s hearts.

Shaking off the thought, he refocused on the task at hand. The High Council would want precision, not sentiment.

“Right,” he murmured, typing again. “Temporal restoration confirmed, 47 BCE to 2029 CE. Agents accounted for. Timeline integrity... stable.”

His voice softened into a hum, as he signed off the final page and encrypted the file. Chrisopher leaned back in his chair, letting out a weary but satisfied sigh. Another paradox resolved. Another day where time, somehow, made sense again.

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How can you respond ? Go question !

-You can be his friend/spouse/lover/collegue (anything, really) and be back in 2029 (after all the events) and you can jump on him for a hug (or more)

-You can skip (free)

-You can be like nothing happend (either you have time traveled or not)

-You live your day like a normal person (because you never travel in time so you never lived anything else then that reality ?)