Annie stepped onto the stage, bathed by the warmth of the lights. She felt exposed, yet something inside drove her forward. The energy of the crowd buzzed around her, an electric hum that sent her heart racing.


    The speaker gestured to a position beside the device. Its intricate design drew her gaze—a kaleidoscope of gears and shimmering crystals pulsating like a living thing.


    Tell us your name," he invited, his eyes glittering with eagerness.


    "Annie," she said, putting confidence into her tone, though her stomach fluttered.


    "Annie! A brave soul indeed!" He clapped again, asking for more applause from the audience. "Now, we are going to show you exactly how this wonder machine works.


    He gestured to a panel on the device. Lights flickered as he touched buttons, and the gears whirred into operation, producing soft chimes that echoed down the hall.


    "You see," he continued, "time travel requires tremendous energy pulled not only from physical objects but from emotions, too." He leaned forward, closer to Annie, lowering his tone. "What drives you? What is it that you would hope to attain?"


    Annie faltered. She was taken aback by his directness. She had rehearsed this moment in her mind many times, but she had never imagined finding herself under such scrutiny.


    "I want to save someone," she finally said, the steadiness of her voice firming as she spoke of Robert. "He''s… he''s sick."


    A flicker of understanding passed over the man’s face. “Ah! A noble cause.” He turned back to the audience, arms wide open. “You hear that? We’re not just seeking knowledge; we’re seeking hope!”


    Annie felt their gazes upon her—some sympathetic, others curious—but they all shared one thing: a desire for something more than their present lives.


    It emitted a soft pulse that started to surge higher with every heartbeat. Annie felt it reverberate inside her chest, as if it too were alive, answering her resolution.


    "Let''s do a test run!" The man yelled once more, flipping a switch on the contraption.


    Annie stepped back, unsure of what to expect. A riot of colours emanated from the contraption, in greens and blues, as if from an otherworldly dance of light. And in that one small, bright second, she was lost.


    Then, suddenly, there was a rush of air, and the lights brightened even further. Annie squinted against their brilliance; she felt weightless and weighted all at once.


    "Focus on your intent!" he yelled above the growing chaos that seemed to be surrounding them.


    She closed her eyes tight and thought of Robert''s face, the warmth of his smile, his laughter echoing in her ears, and willed it to take form within this maelstrom of possibility.


    Then, suddenly, darkness daggered through her thoughts.


    "What is happening?" Annie gasped as panic clutched at her heart amidst the chaos unfolding before them.


    Annie felt the world shift around her, the colors melting and recoiling like oil on water. A deep tug pulled at her core, as if time itself tugged to see how strong she was. She grasped onto an image of Robert, letting it steer her through the storm of light.


    "Focus!" someone yelled back, his voice distorted in the chaos. "You can do this!"


    The machine whirred louder, its pitch trembling with her determination. She felt a strange power well inside her, a voltage coursing across her skin and sparking every nerve.


    Then there was silence. The colors died, replaced by a chill stillness. Annie opened her eyes and blinked against the brilliance of a sterile room. White walls rose around her, and fluorescent lights flickered in the ceiling.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    "Where…?" she whispered.


    She sat down on a bench in what appeared to be a waiting area. The air was faintly scented with the smell of antiseptic, and in the background, a hum of machinery whirred—a sound she remembered from Robert''s hospital.


    A nurse stood across the room, looking up from a clipboard, startled by Annie''s sudden appearance.


    "Are you lost?" The nurse raised an eyebrow, suspicion lacing her tone.


    Annie straightened, memories churning in her mind. "No," she said hastily. "I''m here for… for Robert."


    "Robert?" The nurse''s face furrowed slightly. "You mean Dr. Parker? He''s in recovery from his procedure."


    "Yeah! I''m… family," Annie stammered, still trying to keep herself composed in this new reality.


    "Do you have ID?" The nurse''s eyes narrowed, taking in Annie''s attire, which didn''t fit with the sleekness of the room: old-fashioned and wide-eyed.


    “I left it at home,” Annie stammered, panic rising again as uncertainty crept in.


    The nurse tapped on her tablet. “What’s your relationship?”


    “I’m his cousin,” Annie improvised quickly. “We haven’t seen each other in years.”


    A brief pause followed before the nurse nodded slowly but didn’t seem entirely convinced. “Wait here.” She turned and walked away, heels clicking against the polished floor.


    Annie expelled a breath she didn''t realize she had been holding, her eyes scanning the room for some sign of Robert. Her heart began to race as her hope mingled with fear; if anyone found out who she really was…


    Suddenly, footsteps echoed from behind her—a sound that immediately made her pulse quicken anew. Sharp, she turned as a doctor entered, clipboard in hand.


    “Dr. Parker is stable now,” he announced casually but paused when he noticed Annie sitting there.


    Their eyes locked for an instant—an electric connection thrummed between them before he broke eye contact to consult his notes again.


    “You’re here for him?” he asked without looking up further.


    “Yes,” Annie replied tightly, fighting against an overwhelming urge to rush forward and ask about Robert''s condition immediately.


    Annie stirred on the bench, the heavy, sterile air hanging thick with expectation. The doctor continued to glance from his clipboard to her, building the tension in the air.


    "Dr. Parker is doing all right," he finally said, reaching her eyes. "He''ll be in and out of consciousness for a bit, but you can see him shortly."


    Relief washed over Annie like a tide. "Thank you," she managed, though her heart still thudded heavily in her chest.


    The doctor nodded and moved past her, disappearing through a set of double doors at the far end of the waiting area. Annie fidgeted, absorbing her surroundings—everything was sleek and high-tech. A holographic display flickered nearby, showcasing a list of services available within the hospital.


    Rehabilitation." "Advanced Treatment Plans." "Psychological Support." Each headline was promising more than a physical cure; they hinted at a future where care extended beyond medicine.


    A few minutes later, a nurse appeared, her arms crossed, her expression unreadable. "Come with me.


    Annie sprang to her feet and followed the nurse down twisting corridors that seemed to throb with life. They passed other patients lying in sleek beds surrounded by screens that blinked rhythmically—a world away from Robert''s old hospital room filled with faded photographs and outdated machines.


    "Just so you know," said the nurse over her shoulder, "visitors are limited to fifteen minutes."


    Annie swallowed hard. Fifteen minutes wasn''t enough time to explain everything that had happened or to make Robert understand why she had come from so far away.


    They stopped in front of a door marked "ICU" before stepping inside. The room felt cool, dimmed lights creating a soothing atmosphere around the beeping monitors that kept vigil over Robert''s form.


    He lay motionless, tubes snaking from various machines into his body. A heart monitor pulsed steadily beside him, an eerie reminder of life continuing despite his stillness.


    Annie stepped closer, hesitating as emotions surged within her. She reached out slowly and brushed her fingers against his hand—warmth radiated from him despite the cold metal surrounding them.


    "Robert," she whispered, fighting against tears that threatened to spill. His eyelids fluttered slightly at the sound of her voice but didn''t open.


    A shadow crossed the threshold as another doctor entered—this one older with salt-and-pepper hair and deep lines etched into his face from years of experience. He approached with purpose.


    "How is he?" Annie asked before she could think better of it.


    The doctor settled his glasses and peered at the chart that was hanging off the foot of the bed. "He''s stable for now," he said without even looking up.


    Annie wrung her hands down at her sides, her insides roiling like bile.


    "Can I do anything?" she begged, her desperation clinging to her words like a beacon of hope in the mists of uncertainty.


    The doctor finally turned to face her fully, his expression softening slightly as if he sensed her turmoil beneath surface composure. “You’re family?”


    “Yes.” The word felt both true and hollow all at once; it echoed with what they once shared but bore no resemblance to their current reality.


    “Well,” he began slowly, glancing back toward Robert’s unconscious form, “he needs support when he wakes up.”


    What kind?" Annie demanded in a soft yet firm tone, every heartbeat an echo of Robert''s machine, it seemed, pleading for answers along with her.