Countdown 8 Hours: Witnessing First Love Fall
---
The three men left before I fully came to.
I untied the ropes, ripped the gag from my mouth, and ran toward the bedroom.
"Don't come in!"
My hand had just touched the door when I heard her cry out, her voice breaking.
I froze.
She was going to jump.
No matter what had just happened in that bedroom, she now had a reason to kill herself.
With that thought, I stopped hesitating and burst in.
Sure enough, Jessica was standing on the windowsill.
Her thin nightgown fluttered in the wind, carrying a faint scent.
I was three steps away from her. With my knife wounds, I couldn't possibly rush over and grab her in one move.
"Jessica, come down. Please."
She bit her lip.
Slowly shook her head.
"Stop loving me."
The wind blew in, scattering her gentle voice.
Ten years. How was it still like this? Still like this!
"Jessica, come down. I'm begging you."
"Marcus, don't get involved in my life anymore."
Her skirt billowed in the wind, forming a beautiful shape. The scent spread again. She gently closed her eyes and fell backward out the window.
I lunged forward.
I caught nothing.
---
At 12:03 AM, my watch alarm went off.
Only then did I remember that I could only maintain consciousness in this body for eight hours.
That was the maximum duration the Gate could stay open.
Everything before my eyes suddenly began to distort, shatter, and collapse into chaos, then blazed with blinding white light.
Vertigo hit. My head split with pain.
The white light took a long time to fade, and I found myself back in that laboratory.
I was shirtless, sensors attached all over my body and head, lying on a dark metal chair.
The chair sat in the center of the lab's main hall.
It was connected to a device beneath the lab that surpassed the limits of current technology—a man-made wormhole.
The man-made wormhole was the so-called "Gate."
Arranged around the hall were dozens of computers, each manned by an operator.
At that moment, Captain Reeves strode over to me.
"Kid, are you fucking okay?"
The headache gradually subsided. Only then did I remember everything that had happened. Everything before the time-travel, and everything after.
"I'm fine." My voice shook.
Because less than thirty seconds ago, Jessica had died in front of me. Again.
"Mission accomplished?"
"He didn't accomplish it." An aged voice cut in. From nearby, Damian walked over. "If he had, the entire lab would have disappeared. The fact that we're still here means he failed."
Damian—the director of Project Rebirth. Mysterious identity.
He walked up to me and pressed his fingers against the scars on my shoulder and left ribs.
"Fresh wounds," he murmured. "Marcus, do you remember your mission?"
I took several deep breaths, trying to quell my grief as quickly as possible.
"Marcus! Do you remember the mission!" he suddenly barked.
I blinked. "Kill... Zhou... Victor Zhou."
Right. How had I forgotten? This was the mission of Project Rebirth. The only mission.
"Who is Victor Zhou!"
"Jessica's... Jessica's father."
"And!"
"He's the creator of the Gate. Victor Zhou calculated the Gate's final parameters on April 7, 2007, at 4:03 PM.
"Within thirty minutes, he left Jessica's home and went off the grid.
"Four days later, he published the parameters to the military through a hidden IP, then vanished completely.
"He's suspected of being kidnapped by foreign agents and building... a new Gate for them."
"Very clear," Damian sneered. "Then why didn't you succeed?"
"I forgot the mission during the time-travel..."
"You forgot!?" Damian suddenly drew a gun and pressed it against my head.
Captain Reeves immediately grabbed Damian by the throat.
At the same time, every operator in the lab stood up and aimed their weapons at Captain Reeves.
"Damian, he's my man. You don't get to discipline him," Captain Reeves said without changing his expression.
After a long standoff, Damian finally stepped back and waved his hand.
The operators lowered their weapons. Reeves let go as well.
Damian's tone softened. "Let me tell you, Marcus. All the higher-ups have reached a consensus: there shouldn't be a Gate in this world.
"If Victor Zhou doesn't die in 2007, every country, every faction could potentially achieve time travel.
"When that happens, heads of state will be assassinated as children, democratic governments will be overthrown in their infancy, and the world will never know peace!"
With that, he started coughing violently. He staggered, his hand finding the metal chair. His gaze gradually brightened, tinged with something... greedy.
"This thing can help you accomplish anything. It's the best thing in the world... You've experienced that, haven't you, Marcus?"
I thought for a moment. "Yeah."
"You went to save Jessica, didn't you?"
I nodded.
"I thought so." He wiped the blood from his mouth. "Time-travel causes massive damage to the brain, so you can only remember what matters most to you."
"But I didn't save her."
"Heh heh heh..." Damian's voice was hoarse as he laughed. "Of course you couldn't."
"Why?"
"Because that's how history works. You do insignificant things, and history doesn't get disturbed...
"In other words, if you don't kill Victor Zhou...
"Jessica will definitely die."
---
Blinding white light flared again.
Searing pain returned.
I used every ounce of willpower to etch my conversations with Damian into my mind.
"Within the 8 hours the Gate is open, you must kill Victor Zhou. That's the mission!"
"You must do whatever it takes to complete it. Forget about rules, forget about justice."
"Because it's the only way to save Jessica."
"Kill Victor Zhou."
---
"You little coward, you think you deserve Jessica?"
April 7, 2007, Saturday, 4:03 PM. I "woke up" again.
I checked my watch and tried desperately to remember my mission.
On the second time-travel, my brain had adapted to the pain and hadn't lost as much memory.
At the same time, the phrase I'd repeated to myself countless times surfaced immediately.
"Within 8 hours, killing Victor Zhou is the only way to save Jessica."
Eight hours seemed like plenty of time, but every minute wasted added another minute of uncertainty.
And the price of failure was Jessica dying again...
I couldn't afford that.
Derek's slap came flying at me again.
I took two hits straight on.
"My bad."
On the third, I grabbed his hand and snapped his thumb and index finger.
Derek howled, instantly losing all desire to fight.
I dug his phone out of his pocket and dialed a number—Damian's in 2007.
The call connected.
"Project Rebirth, Subject 4. Eighteen-year-old Southside High student Marcus, in position."
This was Damian's plan.
If a time-traveler died in the past, the 2017 world would change accordingly—they never would have enlisted, never been selected by Damian, never become part of Project Rebirth, never time-traveled again.
So Damian needed the time-traveler to call his 2007 self.
Even though the 2007 version wouldn't understand the call's significance, a decade later he would naturally launch Project Rebirth.
"How many calls had you received before me?" I'd once asked him.
"Three."
"Meaning..."
"Right. Before you, I selected three people to assassinate Victor Zhou. All of them died."
I hung up, pried out the SIM card, found Derek's lighter, and set it on fire.
Just then, I heard footsteps.
Jessica was about to arrive.
But I didn't have time to explain. I needed to find Victor Zhou ASAP.
Right now, he should have just calculated the parameters, wanting to leave home and disappear forever.
This was my last chance to assassinate him.
With that, I vaulted out the bathroom window, shimmied down the wall, and dropped from the second floor.