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Chronos's hand hovered over thedossier before snapping it open, his eyes scanning the contents. His stoicdemeanor cracked, a fissure of anger breaking through the surface as he met thename staring up at him: Chris Harlow.
"According to this,"Amelia continued, undeterred by the storm brewing in Chronos's eyes,"Chris Harlow was a lecturer at a small college in Kent." She paused,allowing each fact to sink in like weights into the depths of his conscience."And that he disappeared 12 months ago."
The air in the room grew thick withunspoken accusations, the truth clawing its way out of the shadows. Finnwatched the man across from them closely, every muscle twitch, every clench ofthe jaw. He saw not a mythological figure, but a man cornered by his past,haunted by the alias he'd crafted like a shield against the world.
Chronos sat back, his chairscraping against the floor, a sound that echoed the tumultuous turn of histhoughts. But Finn had seen enough, witnessed the momentary lapse, the rippleacross an otherwise placid lake. Now, it was only a matter of time until theyfound the stone that caused it.
Finn leaned forward, his elbowsresting on the cold metal table as he scrutinized the man known as Chronos. Thesterile light of the interview room glinted off the handcuffs that bound theirsuspect to the reality he so desperately tried to escape.
"Names are just labels,ephemeral and without essence," Chronos declared, his voice a concoctionof defiance and delusion. "I discarded mine for a cause far greater thanmost can comprehend."
Amelia's brow furrowed, herpatience fraying like an overused rope. “A cause? You talk about sacrifice, butyou left behind children. Was abandoning them part of your ‘greater good’?”
He fixed her with a gaze that wasmeant to be unwavering but betrayed a flicker of conflict. “My children,” hesaid slowly, as if tasting the unfamiliar words, “will inherit a worldunshackled from the chains of technology once the Tempus Machine virus isreleased.”
Finn observed the man’s fervor, theway his hands animatedly sketched a future free from digital constraints. Itwas the passion of a believer, or perhaps the desperation of a dreamer. Finn’smind, however, lingered on the man's past rather than his prophesied future.
“Did you find solace in the past,Chris?” Finn prodded casually, using the name as a hook. “Was it comforting toretreat there when reality didn't match up to expectations?”
The color rose in Chronos’s cheeks,a stark contrast to the clinical white walls surrounding them. His jaw tensedvisibly, anger seeping through the cracks of his cultivated calm.
Finn pressed on, unfazed by thebrewing storm. “There’s a statement here that one of our constables took,” hecontinued, tapping a finger on the stack of papers retrieved from theirprevious encounter with Chronos’s ex-wife. “It says Chris Harlow was bulliedbadly as a child, so much so that she feared you had suffered a breakdown—aretreat into memories and old hurts.”
Chronos’s mouth twisted bitterly,the rawness of old wounds written across his face. But Finn knew better than torelent; this was the moment they could unravel the enigma before them.
"Is that why you want to erasetechnology, Chris?" Finn asked pointedly. "To wipe clean the slate ofa world that's been nothing but cruel to you?"
The room held its breath, awaitinga confession that dangled precariously on the edge of revelation.
Finn studied Chronos, whose realname—Chris Harlow—seemed to have become a trigger for his buried traumas. Theman's face was now shaded with the telltale signs of anger and vulnerability.
"Did you ever use thehistorical past as a sanctuary, Chris?" Finn asked, watching closely asthe question landed like a jab to Chronos's ego. “I know that when I was a kid,if things got bad, I disappeared into detective fiction and old ghost storycollections from decades ago. Part of me wanted to go back to when thingsseemed more easily defined. Villains were villains. Heroes were heroes. Even ifit didn't hold up to scrutiny, it was enough to let me escape my childhoodwoes. Did you escape into history books, I wonder? All to escape a horriblepast. Substituting it for a much older one. With no hope for the future, youcould only look back. Not to your own past, that was too difficult. But to theVictorian era, where things made more sense to you through 21stcentury eyes.”
The flush of red that spread acrossChronos's cheeks was as revealing as an open book. It betrayed the truthwithout the need for words, but Finn needed more than silent admissions.
"Or are you brave enough todeal with the here and now, now that the mask is removed. Where is Vilne?"Finn's voice was firm, unyielding.
Chronos's eyes flashed defiantly."I've told you before, I don't know," he spat out, the frustration inhis voice growing with every syllable.
"Chris," Finn said."Let me tell you what I see: I see a man who has lost his marriage, unableto attend to the scars of being bullied as a kid. Those scars had grown, butyou had been able to hide them, at least until your marriage collapsed. With noloving wife to listen to you or help you through it, you turned inward, andwhen you did that you only found bitterness. A bitterness for the world, aworld you wanted to punish. You killed people who you had some connection tothrough your project, people who had no idea what you were trying to build, butwho could get you closer to it. And yet... You were manipulated by someonesmarter than you, Max Vilne. He used your insecurities and hatred for the worldagainst you, and your expertise in the past... He is the real mastermind. Youare just a sheep."
“A sheep!?” Chris screamed. “I am adreamweaver. I am Chronos! I killed with precision, and I helped bring all ofthis to fruition. You have no idea what's in store for you!”
Chris grinned. "Do you thinkthose fools were killed because they were involved in our project? Some were...But some were dispatched simply to reel you in. You and your red-headedpartner. So that the final dance can play out! You are the sheep! You've beensolving crimes with no rhyme or reason, all designed to buy us time, time tobring the Tempus Machine online! I will say not a word more!"
Finn felt sick to his stomach.Chris wouldn't mention Vilne, but what he had said was enough to make Finnreach for a terrible conclusion—that Vilne had ordered the deaths just to giveFinn something to chase.
“You might not want to give upVilne,” Finn said. “But let me promise you, neither of you will prevail. It'llall have been for nothing! Come on, Amelia.” Finn motioned towards the door.They stepped into the quiet of the hallway where the tension from theinterrogation room seemed to dissipate.
"Think there's any truth toit? A virus that could take down modern technology?" Amelia's questionsliced through the silence.
Finn's mind raced with thepossibilities. He knew what Vilne was capable of; the man was a ghost in themachine, elusive and dangerous. "No," he lied smoothly, unwilling tostoke her fears. “But there's still so much that doesn't make sense. Eitherway, we have to find Vilne.”
Amelia sighed, her shouldersslumping slightly. "We've got no way to trace him."
"Let's leave it to the techguys," Finn suggested pragmatically. "They might be able to extractsomething useful from Chronos's computers."
As they walked away, Finn felt theweight of uncertainty settle over him. The Tempus Machine was out there, andtime, which seemed to be on Chronos's side, was running out for them.
