─═✧✧═─ 𝔽𝕝𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕗𝕣𝕠𝕞 𝟙𝟡𝟙𝟚 ─═✧✧═─

Crossing the Threshold

Mia could hardly sleep that night. The image of Jonathan, bent over his machine in that ghostly moment from the past, replayed in her mind like a film reel. She and Henry had witnessed something extraordinary—a fleeting glimpse into 1912—but that was only a taste of what could be possible.

As dawn broke, Mia sat at the kitchen table with Jonathan's logbook, flipping through the brittle pages. There had to be something more. If the Chronological Resonator could allow them to see the past, could it do more than that? Could they actually *step into* each other's worlds?

Mia's phone rang, startling her from her thoughts. It was Henry.

"Morning," she said, her voice still thick with sleep.

"I've been thinking about what we saw," Henry said, his voice eager. "What if there's a way to do more than just watch? What if we could actually interact with each other?"

Mia had been pondering the same question. "Jonathan's notes aren't clear on that, but I think it's possible. The Resonator and the machine were designed to manipulate the fabric of time, right? Maybe there's a way to push the connection further."

Henry paused. "What do you suggest?"

"I've been going through his later entries," Mia explained. "Toward the end, Jonathan wrote about a concept he called 'Temporal Symmetry.' He theorised that if both ends of the connection—the past and the present—were perfectly synchronised, it might allow for actual physical contact."

Henry's voice was hushed with awe. "Physical contact... You mean, we could cross the threshold? Visit each other's times?"

Mia nodded, excitement building in her chest. "Exactly. But we need to figure out how to synchronise our times."

There was a moment of silence as Henry considered the idea. "So, how do we do that?"

Mia flipped through Jonathan's notes, stopping on a diagram of the Resonator. "It looks like we need to align the frequencies on both sides. Jonathan mentioned something about using objects that exist in both times to anchor the connection. Something that could bridge our worlds."

"Like an object from 1912 that's still around in 2024," Henry said.

"Exactly. And I think I know where to start." Mia's eyes landed on the pocket watch she had found in the attic. It had belonged to Jonathan, and as far as she knew, it had survived all these years.

She grabbed the watch and made her way back up to the attic, her heart racing. When she reached the Chronological Resonator, she placed the watch on the machine's control panel. The air seemed to hum with energy as the watch rested in place, its intricate gears and delicate chain catching the morning light.

"Henry, I've got the watch," she said, her voice steady despite the flutter of nerves in her chest. "I'm placing it on the Resonator."

"I can see it," Henry replied. "It's... it's right here in my study, too."

Mia's breath caught. "You can see the same watch? Exactly where you are?"

"Yes," Henry said, his voice filled with awe. "It's like it exists both times at once."

"That's it," Mia whispered. "That's the anchor. This is what Jonathan was talking about—something that ties our worlds together."

She adjusted the Resonator's dials, watching as the machine began to hum with greater intensity. The watch seemed to glow faintly, as if it were reacting to the energy of the device. A soft pulse resonated through the air, synchronising with her heartbeat.

"Mia," Henry said, his voice growing fainter. "Something's happening. The air feels different. It's like the whole room is vibrating."

Mia felt it too—a strange tingling sensation that prickled across her skin. The attic seemed to blur at the edges, as though the boundaries of reality were becoming less distinct. She gripped the phone tighter.

"Henry, I think it's working," she said, her voice trembling with anticipation. "We're synchronising."

Suddenly, the machine's hum grew louder, and the light from the glass sphere brightened, filling the attic with a soft, golden glow. The air around Mia shimmered, and for a brief moment, she felt weightless, as if she were floating between two worlds.

"Mia!" Henry's voice broke through the static. "Can you hear me? I—"

Before he could finish, the shimmering intensified, and Mia's vision blurred. She blinked, disoriented, as the attic around her seemed to melt away. The walls, the furniture, the old trunk—all of it dissolved into a haze of light and sound.

And then, just as suddenly, the world snapped back into focus.

But it wasn't her world.

Mia stood in a warmly lit study, the air filled with the scent of old books and polished wood. The furniture was elegant, with dark wood and rich fabrics. The walls were lined with bookshelves, and in the corner, an old-fashioned gramophone played a soft melody. The light streaming through the windows was soft and golden, casting long shadows across the room.

She gasped, her heart racing. This wasn't her house—it was Henry's.

"Mia?" A voice called from behind her.

She spun around, her breath catching in her throat. There, standing in the doorway, was Henry. He looked exactly as she had imagined—tall, with tousled dark hair and eyes filled with warmth and curiosity. He wore a suit, but it was casual for the time, and his expression was a mix of astonishment and disbelief.

"Henry?" she whispered, barely able to believe her eyes.

He stepped closer, his eyes wide with wonder. "It worked. You're here."

Mia reached out hesitantly, her fingers brushing against his sleeve. The sensation was real—solid and warm. She could feel the texture of the fabric beneath her fingertips, and the reality of the moment hit her like a wave.

"I'm really here," she breathed. "I'm in 1912."

Henry smiled, though there was a flicker of nervousness behind his eyes. "I didn't think it would actually happen, but... you're standing here, in my world."

Mia took a deep breath, overwhelmed by the weight of the moment. "This is incredible. We actually crossed the threshold."

Henry nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. "But... how long do you think we have?"

"I don't know," Mia said, glancing around the room. "We've synchronised our times, but I don't know how stable the connection is. We need to be careful."

The room seemed to pulse softly with energy, a reminder that the connection between their worlds was fragile. But for now, Mia and Henry stood together, separated by more than a century, yet finally face to face.

The possibilities were endless, but one thing was clear: they had just crossed into uncharted territory.

Mia felt the weight of time itself pressing down on them, but as she stood there, looking into Henry's eyes, she knew that this was only the beginning.