A masterpiece from the past

The team surrounded the man with the black backpack, their breaths shallow as adrenaline coursed through them. The man's eyes darted between them, his grip tightening on the straps of his bag.

"Hand it over," said Amnay, his voice low but commanding.

The man hesitated, his stance defensive. Erna stepped closer, his expression unyielding. "We're not asking twice."

Realizing he was outnumbered, the man reluctantly unfastened the bag and handed it to Titrit. His face was a mixture of frustration and defeat.

"What's in this isn't for you," the man said, his voice trembling.

"It isn't for you either," Amnay shot back. "Leave. Now."

Without another word, the man turned and hurried off into the darkness, glancing back only once before disappearing into the night.

The team wasted no time. Amnay swung the backpack over his shoulder, and they dashed back toward the garden where their time machine was hidden. The streets blurred as they ran, their breaths quick and heavy.

"Are we sure this will work again?" asked Titrit, keeping pace with the others.

"We don't have a choice," Amnay replied. "It's our only way forward."

When they reached the garden, they moved toward the spot where they had buried the travel time machine. The garden was quiet and empty of people, but they still walked carefully, keeping to the shadows to avoid drawing attention.

"This is it," whispered Assoulil, pointing to the exact location.

He crouched down and began digging into the soft earth with his hands, scooping away sand until the metallic surface of the time machine became visible. Carefully, he lifted it out and shook off the remaining dirt. The moonlight glinted off its surface, giving it an almost otherworldly glow.

"Alright," said Arinas. "Let's do this."

Amnay placed the backpack beside the machine and grabbed the wheel. With each turn, the machine emitted a low hum that grew louder, resonating in their chests.

"Ten more," Assoulil counted, his voice steady.

The hum turned into a high-pitched whirring as Amnay completed the twentieth turn. Suddenly, the air around them shimmered, and a glowing blue gate materialized, just as it had the last time. Its edges crackled with energy, and the light it emitted bathed the garden in an ethereal glow.

"It's beautiful," whispered Titrit, her eyes wide.

"Let's move," said Erna.

One by one, they stepped through the gate, the sensation like stepping through water without getting wet. As they passed through, they felt a strange, familiar sensation, like falling endlessly through a dark, starless sky.

When they emerged on the other side, they were standing in the national museum—but something was different.

"Our clothes!" exclaimed Titrit, looking down. Their old attire had vanished, replaced by the outfits they had worn in their original time. The fabric felt rougher, more familiar.

"It's like we never left," said Assoulil, tugging at his sleeves.

The museum around them was eerily quiet, its grand halls illuminated only by moonlight filtering through high windows. The air was thick with tension as they moved cautiously through the corridors.

Amnay's heart sank when they reached the exhibit and saw the empty pedestal.

"It's gone," said Arinas, her voice barely above a whisper.

Before anyone could respond, a faint noise echoed through the hall—a shuffle of footsteps. Amnay motioned for everyone to stay still. From the shadows, two figures emerged, their faces partially obscured by the dim light.

Erna's flashlight flickered on, and the beam landed on one of the men. He froze, his eyes widening.

"Dad?" Erna whispered, disbelief evident in his voice.

The man stepped closer, his features unmistakable now. "Erna," he said, his voice filled with both surprise and caution.

Amnay turned his flashlight to the second figure, and his breath caught. The man standing before him was hauntingly familiar—his jawline, his stance, even the way he looked at Amnay.

"It can't be," Amnay murmured. "You… you look like my father."

The man's expression softened, but his eyes held a mix of sadness and determination. "Amnay, there's so much you don't know."

For a moment, no one moved. The weight of the encounter pressed down on them, questions racing through their minds. Who were these men? What were they doing here? And most importantly, what did this mean for their mission?