The Gravity of Tomorrow
Copyright© 2026 by Sci-FiTy1972
Chapter 6: When the Stone Woke
They didn’t speak at first.
Ty sat on a low stone wall near the edge of the ruins, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands clasped as if he could still feel the ghost of the chain between his fingers. The tour group had moved on—voices fading, laughter returning, the ordinary world reasserting itself with careless confidence.
But Ty and Ann remained behind, standing in the space where time had briefly bent around them.
The mark on Ty’s wrist pulsed faintly beneath his skin.
Not light.
Not heat.
Presence.
Ann watched it with the same expression she’d worn when comforting frightened kids at the shelter—calm on the outside, alert to every tremor beneath the surface.
“You feel different,” she said quietly.
Ty nodded. “I am different.”
He lifted his wrist, studying the symbol as if it might suddenly explain itself. The T-shape looked ancient and simple at the same time. The black jewel embedded in his skin seemed deeper than color—more like an absence of light than a shade.
“I keep expecting it to hurt,” he admitted. “Or burn. Or ... something.”
Ann shook her head. “Some changes don’t hurt. They just don’t give you the option to go back.”
That landed heavier than anything the voice had said.
Ty exhaled slowly. “I heard it again. While we were standing there. Not words this time. Just ... awareness. Like being seen.”
Ann sat beside him. Close enough that he could feel the warmth of her shoulder through the thin fabric of his shirt.
“I felt that too,” she said. “Not the voice. But the ... attention.”
They sat with that, the weight of it settling between them.
Finally, Ty spoke. “You don’t have to stay in this.”
Ann turned to him. “You already tried that once.”
“I mean it,” he said. “Whatever this is, it’s not normal. It’s not safe. You work with people who need you here—now. You don’t need whatever future this thing is dragging me toward.”
Ann studied his face. Not with anger. Not with fear.
With recognition.
“Ty,” she said gently, “my whole life has been about stepping into things that weren’t safe because someone had to.”
“That’s different,” he said.
“Is it?” she asked. “You fixed radios in places where the ground could blow up under your feet. I sit with people who are one bad night away from dying. We both already chose lives that don’t pretend safety is guaranteed.”
Ty looked away, jaw tight.
Ann continued softly. “The only difference now is that this ... whatever it is ... has finally put a name to the kind of weight we already carry.”
They left the ruins in silence.
Back on the bus, surrounded by tourists chattering excitedly about ancient history and souvenir shops, Ty felt like he was watching the world through glass. Everything looked the same.
Everything felt unreal.
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