The Silent Guardian — Chapter 20, Part 2: Dahr-khoday

This installment continues The Silent Guardian Series. Previous: Chapter 20, Part 1: The Plan.

Xia’s expression hardens. “Then we outsmart them,” she says. “Use their arrogance against them.”

Clara grasps my hand, grounding me with her warmth. “We’ll make them pay for what they’ve done—to you and everyone else they’ve hurt. We’ll end those assholes.”

Xia leans forward, fingertips tracing invisible patterns on the table. “Most who know about the Sigma Event believe some cataclysmic event ends humanity in 2051,” she murmurs. “There’s no proof. If an apocalypse were coming, wouldn’t there be evidence of it before July 1st? I’ve traveled to June 30th, 2051. Everything is normal. People are living their lives completely unaware. The only thing I found unusual was the shutdown around the Acropolis.”

I grip my pen. That’s where the Sanctum is. Something must happen there. Supposedly, no one knows; however, I think Philip does.

Xia reads my note. She replies, “Our contact told us that the Phylax have created a device to stop passage beyond that date. They created something that blocks time travel past July 1st, 2051. Once that point is crossed, time travel in any direction becomes impossible. It’s not the end of the world or humanity. It’s something else.”

Some physicists posit that spacetime isn’t genuinely infinite. Instead, it has temporal horizons. A temporal horizon is a point beyond which no path can continue. It is a cosmic dead-end, where every route forward collapses into a wall of pure impossibility. If the Phylax has created or harnessed such a horizon around July 1, 2051, then crossing it would be walking off the edge of a cliff—there’s no time to stand on. In practice, time travel to that date hits a hard limit, a lock that bars any further steps.

We experience time as though it’s open-ended, but if some kind of technology enforces an artificial wall, it might manipulate the fabric of spacetime in a localized region. In doing so, this technology forms a horizon that no traveler can bypass. The result is that the timeline cannot be accessed beyond that point. It isn’t that existence ends—just that the pages beyond 2051 are sealed shut, leaving the universe intact but hidden from any time traveler’s reach.

A chill prickles at the back of my neck when I remember the meeting I interrupted in Merv. A piece connects, though the picture remains frustratingly incomplete. I write, I eavesdropped on a Phylax meeting. They said the Dahr-khoday interfered with my mission in China, making the Sigma Event worse. Maybe Philip wanted my mission to fail, to twist the Sigma Event somehow. Have either of you heard of the Dahr-khoday?

Clara glances at Xia, obviously puzzled. “I’ve never heard of them before. Have you?”

Xia shrugs, her fingers grasping the edge of her mug. “No,” she says, her voice tightening. “No, I haven’t,” she says simply.

I add another line: The Sigma Event, and I might be connected.

Xia intentionally stares at me when she replies this time. “Maybe you are, maybe you aren’t. The future is always in flux. Even the Phylax don’t know how things will unfold.”

I remain undecided about the Sigma Event. When I travel through time and see the blank pages of the future, I worry that this is all false hope. I write, Maybe.

Clara, who has been pacing, suddenly stops. She blazes with resolve. “This could be our chance,” she says. “What if we visit the Sanctum in June 2051? We can observe what happens. If the Phylax are behind this temporal horizon, or whatever it is, then the Sanctum is where we’ll find answers. We can watch from the outside, look for any unusual activity that explains what’s really going on.” Her excitement builds. “It could be how we break their grip on the timeline.”

The enormity of her idea envelopes me. The Sanctum. It is the malignant heart of the Phylax’s power. It is zealously guarded. Going there during such a pivotal occasion is suicidal.

“It’s dangerous,” Xia concedes, “although it might be our best shot. If we can discover what they’re doing, maybe we can stop it—or at least find a way to undermine their control.”

I tap my pen against the notepad, the sound anchoring me. I write, Agreed. We must be extremely cautious. The Sanctum will be heavily guarded, especially at that time.

Clara’s lips curl into a determined smile. She winks at Xia when she says, “When have we ever let a little danger stop us?”

The porch creaks outside, followed by the shuffle of boots. I raise an arm to signal quiet. Clara and Xia become tense. Another creak.

“What was that?” Clara whispers.

Adrenaline races through my veins. I write rapidly, Someone’s at the front door. Probably Phylax.

Xia slips toward the window. She peers through a narrow gap in the curtains. The streetlamp’s glow stretches across her body. “There’s a black car parked across the street,” she whispers. “I didn’t see it before.”

Clara’s jaw tightens. “We need to move. Now.”

I scribble, Get your bags. We’ll get out of here quickly.

Continue with Chapter 20, Part 3: The Escape. New installments publish daily at 5:00 AM.

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