A masterpiece from the past

Amnay and his friends stepped out of the park, their eyes adjusting to the soft glow of the late morning sun. The city stretched before them like a time capsule, each step unraveling the differences between 2025 and 2005.

"Look at this," said Assoulil, gesturing toward a row of old storefronts with faded signs. "No holographic displays, no automated kiosks. Just people, walking into shops like it's the most natural thing in the world."

"It feels simpler," said Titrit, her eyes scanning a vintage billboard advertising a flip phone. "But also... busier. People aren't glued to screens; they're actually talking to each other."

Erna nodded his tone serious. "It's a reminder. We are not just in a different time; we are in a different world. And we have to blend in if we're going to succeed."

They walked along the bustling streets, weaving through the crowds, their expressions a mix of curiosity and amazement. The team could not help but marvel at the differences: the absence of electric cars, the older buildings untouched by years of modernization, and the chatter of a world without social media.

"I can't believe this is what life used to be like," Arinas said. "It's like stepping into a history book."

Amnay, however, remained focused. "We don't have much time to admire the past. Our mission is critical, and we can't afford mistakes. Let's figure out where the national museum is."

They approached a vendor selling newspapers. Amnay stepped forward, clearing his throat. "Excuse me, sir, can you tell us where the national museum is?"

The vendor looked up, slightly puzzled. "The national museum? It's on the other side of the city, near the old government district."

"Is there a bus we can take to get there?" asked Erna.

The vendor nodded. "Yeah, catch the number 15 bus. It'll take you close."

"Thank you," said Amnay, as the group exchanged glances and headed toward the nearest bus stop.

The bus arrived with a groan of its engine, its exterior faded and scratched. The team climbed aboard, exchanging amazed glances as they took in the retro design: patterned seats, coin-operated fare boxes, and an analog timetable posted near the driver.

"This is what public transport looked like back then?" Titrit whispered, sliding into a seat.

"It's surreal," said Assoulil, gazing out the window as the bus rumbled through the streets. "No smart systems. No AI guidance. Just a driver and a route."

The hour-long ride offered a chance to observe the city in its 2005 state. The streets were narrower, lined with parked cars instead of bike lanes. Billboards displayed printed advertisements, not the dynamic holograms they were used to.

"We have to stay sharp," said Amnay, breaking the silence. "Tonight is crucial. If we don't get that black backpack, everything we've done will be for nothing."

Erna leaned forward, his voice low. "What if Aguilas was wrong? What if the guy doesn't show up?"

"Then we adapt," said Amnay firmly. "We've made it this far. We can't let doubt hold us back."

Finally, the bus pulled up near the national museum. The group disembarked, their eyes immediately drawn to the familiar yet altered landmark.

"It looks almost the same," said Arinas, studying the museum's entrance.

"Almost," Titrit corrected, pointing to the faded paint and the overgrown garden surrounding the building. "Time has a way of changing things."

They found a large tree near the museum's entrance and settled beneath its shade. The hours passed slowly as the sun began its descent, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink.

"Okay," said Amnay, as the shadows grew longer. "Everyone knows their position. Keep an eye on every angle of the museum. We can't let him slip past us."

The team nodded and split up, positioning themselves strategically around the museum. With no communication devices, they relied on hand signals to communicate. A simple wave, a nod, or a pointed finger was all they needed to stay in sync.

As darkness fell, Titrit spotted movement near the west entrance. She caught Amnay's eye and pointed discreetly. Amnay followed her gaze and saw him—a man with dark hair, wearing a gray coat, and carrying a black backpack. The description matched Aguilas's intel.

Amnay signaled to the others, who converged silently, closing in from all directions. The man seemed unaware, his attention fixed ahead as he approached the museum's side door.

"Excuse me," said Amnay, stepping into the man's path. His voice was calm, but his body was tense, ready for action.

The man stopped, his expression confused. Before he could react, the team surrounded him, cutting off any chance of escape.

"Don't try to run," said Erna firmly, his eyes locked on the black backpack.

The man froze, his grip tightening on the bag.