The date. The time. The timeline. The mask. The fucker was here.
The gun cocked.
“I jumped through twenty-six timelines to get to you.”
“One would have sufficed, Möbius.”
The bugger didn’t even turn around. And he knew my name.
He is good. He is very good.
“I need to know why?”
He ignored my question. “You should have killed me when you
had a chance.” Bugger wasn’t even scared.
At Temporal Opus, we need to know. I tried again.
“Why did you kill those 25 people?”
He chuckled. An ice-cold laugh in the face of death that
would have made a hardened Temporal Agent piss in his pants. “People? Those
retrievers didn’t tell you anything, huh? These were not just random ‘people’
Mobius. Here--” He tossed a bundle of photos over to me. Bloody faces of 25
‘people’ floated in air on the photos. Despite the brutal way they were
murdered, there was clearly one theme to it. B… But… It couldn’t be…
“They are all me! What the…!”
“Yes. They are all Mobius. Twenty-five Möbiuses
who thought they had me because their retrievers told them so.”
All twenty-five of me
killed by him.
“Am I the twenty-sixth?”
“Nope. I am.” The fucker turned around. He wasn’t even
making sense anymore. “You see—” he came closer… I could feel his breath… his
eyes staring intently into mine… “—I am Möbius too.”
The mask came off. A mirror came up. A horrendous mirror
that showed you a murderous version of yourself.
“I am the twenty-sixth.” He repeated, the man with my face, “I am just tired of this killing. You must complete the job now.”
His right hand reached for the overcoat pockets. A shot was
fired impulsively… from my gun. His body fell to the ground and papers from his
hands fell to the floor.
CONFIDENTIAL
Mission Details
Target: Agent Möbius
#137
Timeline: UNKNOWN
Cause: Rogue agent. Catastrophic
imploding timelines and collapsing multi-Universes
Mission: Eliminate
Agent Möbius (all timelines).
BRIEFING ENDS
I see it now. Temporal agency couldn’t pin-point the exact
timeline of the rogue one. All of us need to be eliminated to be sure. I wept
near the twenty-sixth. His sacrifice will not go in vain.
I gathered the twenty-five photos, added another one.
And then, I donned his mask. Off to the twenty-seventh.
###
