Victor Meta sat down at the dinner table as his wife, Janet, brought over the roast he had been craving all day. “It looks amazing, Janet… you’ve really outdone yourself this time.”
Janet gave Victor a warm smile. “I hope it’s as good as you seem to think it is. I swear, that oven has been acting up again.”
Victor began carving the roast and distributing slices to himself, his wife, and his daughter, Mira. Mira pouted. “I don’t want this! I want ice cream!”
Victor leaned over, pretending to whisper into Mira’s ear. “I tell you what… eat all of your dinner, and you can have ice cream for desert.”
Mira’s eyes lit up as she began to attack her plate, while Janet gave Victor a disapproving look. “You spoil her too much… she’s going to develop a bad attitude if you keep letting her get her way.”
Victor leaned back. “It’s good for a Meta to be stubborn. It means they will be determined, and fight to get what they want. Don’t you remember how we met?”
Janet groaned. “Please, don’t remind me. But are you sure about that? Mira, I mean. I’m not sure she’s someone who can be trusted with…”
Janet leaned close to actually whisper while Mira was completely oblivious, busy eating something she now realized she liked the taste of. “… time travel.”
Victor grimaced. “Well, she’s still young. When I think she’s ready, I’ll give her the handbook so she can start learning the ins and outs of it. It’s not like we are short on… ”
Janet cringed. “Please, don’t say it…”
“Time.”
Janet facepalmed. “I would have married you years earlier if you didn’t make such awful jokes, you know.”
Victor chuckled. “But then I wouldn’t really be me. After all, I can put up with your sub-par cooking , so...”
“You said it looked amazing!”
“It is, calling it sub-par was the joke. Come on, Janet… lighten up a bit.”
Janet poked her own plate with a fork, grimly musing. “It’s just that… this talk of… travel. It worries me. What happens when you run into something too dangerous?”
Victor was about to explain all the reasons why she was being too paranoid. The other Metas always stuck together, and made sure to stop major incidents before they began. The very existence of time travel meant they could avoid dangerous periods of history entirely. Even the fact he was a Meta meant most, if not all, of his enemies would never dream of trying to harm him. He was about to say all of this, when the door was kicked open and armed men rushed in.
Victor dropped out of the timeline as fast as he could, breathing heavily as he scrambled to stand up on the polished marble floor. He ran through the halls of the Meta stronghold simply called the Pause, and found his way to the quarantine section. “Hello, Victor. How can I help you to-”
In his panic, Victor cut off the woman. “I need a quarantine, immediately! My last time position outside of Pause!”
The woman filled out some forms, put them into a pneumatic tube, and within seconds got a response via another tube. “Done. Am I to presume you also want a light copy?”
“Correct.”
The woman filled out another form, sent it through the tube, and then spun around to flip through a cabinet. She turned back to Victor holding a thick folder. “I already reserved a time slot, chamber B-7. Let me know if you need anything else.”
Victor grabbed the folder and less urgently walked to the chamber. He still couldn’t slow his heart down, as he feared what he might see when he arrived.
He entered the chamber, and grabbed the paper thin glowing sheet out of the folder, placing it into the light sheet receptacle. The room became an exact replica of his home, Janet and Mira still at the dinner table. Their expressions were still ones of surprise rather than fear, as it was still only milliseconds after the men had broke in.
There were four men, all blank masks to obscure their identities. Their clothes were a plain white, also unidentifiable. They each carried iconic ceremonial swords, though, that Victor did recognize. They were always carried by a group that called themselves the Legion, a group of anti Meta warriors.
Victor slowly collapsed against a wall, slipping into a sitting position in the silent chamber, looking at a hologram of his family moments before their slaughter. These intruders were definitely hitmen, while he wasn’t even trained for combat. Everything of value he had was in that now time quarantined house, but even that wasn’t much. He would need money, and lots of it, to pay for some quick thinking warriors to deal with his unexpected adversaries.
Victor rummaged through his pockets, and pulled out his communicator. Flipping it open, he pressed the first auto contact, and waited to connect.
The voice was grainy, but still clear enough to be understood. “Ugh… Victor? What is it? I’m still working through that latest case file, I can’t drop everything just to chat.”
“Gerald… I’m in deep. I need some help.”
Gerald’s voice transitioned from dismissive to concerned. “What happened?”
“My family is in danger. I need some jobs, the highest paying ones you can find. After that… I’ll need some contacts for the best combat casters money can buy.”
