chrono-wars: legacy of past

Elara's respite was brief. The hum of the Time Pod's engines had barely faded when Chrono issued its next alert. This time, the Revisionists had set their sights on an event that could alter the technological trajectory of humanity: the life and work of Nikola Tesla.

"Give me the details, Chrono," Elara said, strapping herself into the pilot's seat.

"Temporal breach detected in 1893, Chicago, during the World's Columbian Exposition. Nikola Tesla is set to unveil his alternating current (AC) electrical system, a breakthrough that will shape the future of energy distribution. However, the Revisionists are interfering."

Elara frowned. "What's their angle? Why target Tesla?"

"The Revisionists appear to be sabotaging Tesla's demonstration, ensuring the dominance of direct current (DC) systems. This would delay technological progress and consolidate power under fewer entities."

"Typical," Elara muttered. "Take out one visionary, and you cripple the progress of an entire era." She paused, then added, "What's the stability rating?"

"Temporal stability is at 62% and falling. Immediate intervention is required."

Elara sighed. "Guess I'm off to the fair."

The Time Pod materialized in a quiet corner of the exposition grounds, hidden among the towering white buildings that earned the event the nickname "The White City." The air buzzed with excitement as thousands of visitors marveled at the technological wonders on display.

Elara adjusted her outfit—a late 19th-century dress with a high collar and modest bustle—before stepping out. She blended seamlessly into the crowd, her temporal scanner discreetly hidden in a parasol.

"Chrono, where's Tesla?" she whispered.

"He is preparing for his presentation at the Electricity Building. Warning: Revisionist tech detected nearby."

Elara weaved through the crowd, her eyes scanning for anything out of place. As she approached the Electricity Building, she spotted Tesla on the stage, his lean frame and piercing eyes commanding attention. He was demonstrating the power of AC by illuminating a field of incandescent bulbs without wires, the crowd gasping in amazement.

But something was wrong. Elara's scanner beeped softly, indicating an energy signature far too advanced for the 19th century. She followed the signal to a group of men huddled near the back of the hall. They were dressed as laborers, but their equipment was anything but ordinary.

"Revisionists," she muttered.

Elara moved closer, her disruptor concealed beneath her parasol. The men were installing a device beneath the stage, its sleek design clearly out of place in the Victorian setting.

"Chrono, analysis?" she murmured.

"Device identified as an electromagnetic disruptor. It is designed to overload Tesla's equipment, causing a catastrophic failure during the demonstration."

Elara's jaw tightened. "If the demonstration fails, AC loses credibility, and Edison's DC wins the war of currents. That's their plan."

She approached the group, her parasol tapping the ground rhythmically. "Excuse me, gentlemen," she said sweetly, "but I believe you're in the wrong place."

The men froze, their eyes narrowing. One of them, a burly man with a scar running down his cheek, stepped forward. "You've got no business here, lady. Move along."

Elara smiled tightly. "Oh, but I do. You're tampering with history, and I can't let that happen."

Before they could react, she drew her disruptor, the weapon humming to life. The men scrambled, one of them activating the disruptor. A low, ominous hum filled the air as Tesla's equipment began to flicker.

The crowd murmured in confusion as the lights dimmed. Tesla's brow furrowed as he adjusted his controls, trying to stabilize the demonstration. Elara fired her disruptor at the Revisionist device, but it was shielded, the pulse deflecting harmlessly.

"Chrono, options?" she hissed, ducking behind a pillar as the Revisionists fired back with concealed energy weapons.

"Manual deactivation required. Access the device's core and disable the power supply."

"Great," Elara muttered. "Why is it always manual?"

She dashed toward the device, her disruptor taking out one of the Revisionists along the way. The burly man lunged at her, but she sidestepped, tripping him with her parasol. Reaching the device, she pried open the panel, her fingers working quickly to dismantle the power source.

On stage, Tesla continued his demonstration, sweat beading on his forehead as he fought to keep the lights on. "Ladies and gentlemen," he said, his voice steady despite the chaos, "what you are witnessing is the future—a world where energy flows freely, empowering humanity to achieve greatness."

Elara smiled grimly. "Not if I have anything to say about it."

The Revisionists' leader shouted, "Stop her!" But it was too late. Elara yanked out the power core, the disruptor shutting down with a whine. Tesla's equipment stabilized, the bulbs glowing brighter than ever.

The crowd erupted into applause, unaware of how close they'd come to witnessing a disaster.

As the Revisionists retreated, Elara secured the power core, ensuring it couldn't be used again. She looked up at Tesla, who was bowing to the audience, his brilliance shining through the chaos.

"Chrono, status?" she asked.

"Temporal stability restored to 89%. Tesla's demonstration proceeded as recorded in historical accounts."

"Good," Elara said, watching as the audience surged forward to congratulate Tesla. "One more crisis averted."

But even as she returned to the Time Pod, her mind was already racing. The Revisionists were escalating their efforts, targeting the minds that shaped humanity's future. And if Tesla was their latest victim, who—or what—would be next?