Chapter 26 #2
Jack’s hands tightened around the podium as if anchoring himself.
“These individuals are known as the Timeborne. They grow up with an innate sensitivity to time’s flow—its bends, breaks, and loops.
As they mature, they unravel their gift…
and can manipulate time. They don’t just study history—they live it. ”
His words carried a heavy, almost mythic promise, and his eyes gleamed with feverish conviction.
“That’s fucking bullshit, dude,” Rick snapped, leaping to his feet. He yanked his girlfriend up by the arm and stormed out. A few others followed, muttering under their breath.
Jack’s pressed on.
“Eclipsarum Obscura only occurs once in a great while. People across the globe gather to witness it—the moment the sun and moon align. But imagine this—an infant born when the eclipse coincides with the collision of two black holes. That child would be marked by the cosmos... born with the ability to time travel.”
He raised a finger. “But there’s a catch.”
The auditorium, though thinning fast, fell still.
“The collision creates more than just a rift in time,” Jack continued, his voice hoarse. “It unleashes something else. Something far older. A malevolent force known as the Umbrum Void—a being of ancient darkness that has slept for eons, waiting for this precise moment.”
A few remaining students exchanged glances, unsure whether to laugh or listen.
“As the black holes converge, their energy tears into the fabric of reality, and the Umbrum Void slips through—drawn by the chaos. It feeds on the instability, infecting realms across the universe. The temporal rift acts as its gateway.”
Jack gripped the podium tightly, his knuckles white. “At the birth of a Timeborne, this darkness is set loose. And it is the Timeborne’s destiny not only to master time, but to battle and purge the evil born alongside them.”
Silence fell like a curtain.
Even those who remained didn’t speak.
Dr. Wong glanced at his watch, expression unreadable.
Professor Rubenfield leaned in to whisper something to the woman beside her, her eyes never leaving Jack.
For a heartbeat, no one moved. No laughter. No scorn. Just... silence.
Jack plucked his handkerchief from the podium and dabbed at his slick brow before continuing.
“Many cultures worldwide believe in this phenomenon,” he said, shaking but determined. “They wait—generation after generation—for the birth of a Timeborne, someone destined to prove that time travel isn’t just theory, but truth.”
He took a breath.
“The Native Americans say their ancestors witnessed Timebornes—and the evil that followed. The Mayans. The Incas. They all tell stories of a child born during the Eclipsarum Obscura… a child who could slip through the fabric of time with every full moon.”
He wiped sweat from his neck, his hand trembling. Then, barely louder than a whisper, he said, “One last thing. There are two daggers—the Sun and the Moon.”
I bolted upright in my seat, pulse racing. My heart slammed in my chest.
Finally, he said the names. The ones I’d been chasing across continents and cold trails. Not scribbled in ancient margins—but spoken aloud, real, undeniable.
Jack’s voice steadied as he spoke.
“The ancient city of Ugarit descended into chaos during the first recorded solar eclipse. From the shadow, two blades emerged—razor-sharp, glowing with power. These weren’t ordinary weapons.
These daggers could pierce through time, anchoring to historical moments and twisting them into something new. With them, time could be rewritten.”
A hush fell over the room.
“If evil were to claim them,” Jack said, “the world would unravel. History would bend to the will of the wielder. Time would no longer belong to fate, but to whoever held the daggers.”
The remaining audience members sat frozen, caught between fascination and disbelief.
Then someone scoffed from the back. “What a crock of drivel, man. You’ve got some nerve calling that a dissertation.”
A few snickers followed.
Jack’s face fell, his hope collapsing behind his eyes. He drew a shaky breath and placed both hands on the podium.
“Thank you for your time,” he said quietly. “That concludes my presentation on time travel and the solar eclipse.”
Not a single hand clapped. No murmurs of interest. Only blank stares and furrowed brows.
I glanced toward the exit, unsure if I should go. But what would that signal to Jack? I needed him. I couldn’t afford to alienate him—not now.
Dr. Wong shifted in his seat and leaned forward.
“Mr. James,” he said with a bemused smirk, “you’ve got quite the imagination. Light and dark, cosmic forces, good versus evil... Tell me, do your Timebornes fly and shoot lasers too?”
Jack bristled. “No, professor. They’re human. Just like you and me.”
Professor Rubenfield folded her arms. “Then where is your proof?”
“I don’t have proof, Professor,” Jack admitted. “But I have vital research suggesting time travel could exist. Someone born during a solar eclipse—during Eclipsarum Obscura—could theoretically time travel.”
“You need proof, Mr. James,” Professor Rubenfield cut in, her tone unflinching. “How can the department board grant you a Ph.D. without tangible evidence? A theory must be supported by credible research and physical proof of its legitimacy.”
Jack stared at her, his lips parting. The words came out like gravel, rough and raw. “So… you’re asking me to bring you a Timeborne?”
The room burst into laughter.
Loud, unrestrained guffaws ricocheted off the walls, drowning out everything else. The sound pierced the air like jagged glass, slicing Jack’s composure.
“That’s exactly what we’re asking,” Dr. Wong smirked. “You talk a lot, Jack. But without validation, all you’ve done today is turn yourself into a joke.”
Jack’s eyes flared. His voice was hoarse but desperate. “Time travel is real. I know it is! If you’d just listen—just listen—you’d understand!”
He slammed his hand across the podium, scattering his notes and charts. Papers fluttered like dying leaves to the floor. Then, without another word, he spun and bolted offstage.
“Jack, wait!” I shouted, launching from my seat. Metal groaned. People gasped. I shoved past bodies and stumbled down the aisle, slamming into shoulders and elbows.
By the time I reached the backstage corridor, it was empty.
Jack James was gone.