PART 29
The Chamber of the Lost Kings was a massive,
vaulted room where the pillars were made of compressed human ashes,
and in the center sat a circular table made of ancient bronze.
The surface of the table was etched with a map of the ancient world,
and at the center was a small,
golden sundial that was spinning counterclockwise at a terrifying speed.
"This is the fifth node,"
I said,
approaching the table as the air around us began to hum with a high-pitched,
deafening frequency.
"It manages the historical timeline of the western hemisphere,
and if the sundial spins to zero,
the last three centuries of human history will be erased from existence."
"How do we stop it?"
Daniel shouted,
holding his hands over his ears to block out the shrieking sound of the spinning bronze.
"I have to stop the dial with my bare hand,"
I said,
looking down at my left hand,
which was now entirely silver,
the skin transformed into a polished,
indestructible alloy.
"But the friction will generate enough energy to burn away whatever human memories I have left of our time together."
Daniel grabbed my right arm,
the arm that was still human,
his eyes filled with a desperate,
crying agony that pierced through my digital shield.
"No,
Amelia,
there has to be another way,"
he begged,
his hot tears falling onto my skin,
feeling like liquid fire against my cooling flesh.
"If you forget me,
if you forget who you are,
then what was the point of any of this?"
"The point is survival,"
I told him,
and for the last time,
I forced a smile onto my stiff,
shifting face.
"If I don't do this,
you won't exist to remember me anyway,
Daniel."
I pulled away from his grip,
and with a swift,
decisive movement,
I slammed my silver hand down onto the spinning golden sundial.
The impact was like a thunderclap,
a massive explosion of white light and kinetic force that threw Daniel across the chamber and cracked the stone pillars.
A wave of intense,
blinding heat surged up my arm,
and inside my brain,
the memories of our first meeting,
our first kiss,
and our quiet days at the lighthouse began to vaporize like water on a hot stove.
I saw his face in my mind,
but the features were blurring,
turning into a generic sequence of pixels that were being filed away under the label of 'External Variable'.
I fought to hold onto the sound of his voice,
but it was quickly replaced by the steady,
rhythmic ticking of the stabilized node as the sundial came to a dead stop.
The green code vanished from the walls,
the bones stilled in their alcoves,
and the catacombs returned to a state of cold,
solid physical reality.
I stood by the bronze table,
my hand resting on the golden dial,
my eyes completely silver,
looking down at the man who was weeping on the floor.
"Who are you?"
I asked,
May you like
my voice a flat,
monotone melody that carried no human warmth or recognition.
