The Loop

15 October 2025 – 11:08 PM

Chronos Data Systems – Lab 4

The lab always felt sharper at night.

Maya Patel, the techy geek, badge-tapped into Lab 4 and exhaled. She was currently the in-charge of systems security attached to the Quantum Computer Q-9; and before heading home, she decided to check the lab once more. Her AI assistant Lana had reminded her to reach home early as it was Riley’s birthday the next day and her husband William’s tech start-up had just got an investor.

She dropped her bag at her desk and and glanced across the room. Jason’s station was still on.

“Of course you left it,” she muttered, walking over.

Jason was her colleague and was a part of a different team. He poked at experimental qubit behaviours while secretly fantasising time travel.

On his main screen:

Quantum-Mail v3.7

Status: Error – Entanglement drift / channel unstable

Quantum-Mail.

He had kept going with that forbidden idea.

Maya sighed but her eyes flicked over the error.

Out of curiosity, the mad geek sat on the system and checked the code. “Jason is good... but here comes the catch.”

She identified the bug almost immediately and her hands played a symphony.

Error.

“Well, that’s new.”

Now it was the question of geekiness.

She transferred the data onto her system and again corrected a few bugs.

And then after a few minutes... there it was.

Correct. Save. Recompile.

The red error flicked to green.

The interface beneath was disturbingly simple: a mail form.

To:

Subject:

Message:

And at the bottom:

Time: ::___ DD/MM/YYYY

Of course Jason had made time travel look like email.

Suddenly she heard the lab door chirping.

“Oh… Nathan must have come…” she muttered while quickly inserting her advanced pen drive to delete the data. The AI that she had developed got activated through the Pen Drive and it analysed the data pattern and recreated the program in seconds. So while Nathan came, the deletion and resurrection, both were done.

“Did Jason do something to add the trouble?” he asked jokingly.

“Ahh, you know him… Sometimes I just wish to format his hippocampus.” She chuckled.

Nathan checked something in his system and then waved goodbye to Maya and exited the lab.

She opened her system and inserted pen drive. The same interface poped up.

She typed.

To: maya.patel@chronosnet.com

Subject: Q-Test 01

Message:

If this arrives one hour earlier, congrats — you broke causality.

Time: 10:08:00 15/10/2025

Her heart thudded, with clean, white-hot curiosity.

She hit Send.

Q-9’s hum shifted into a higher note, then dropped back.

She opened her inbox. Refreshed.

Q-Test 01 — Received: 10:07 PM.

Exactly one hour ago.

“Holy…” She swallowed the rest.

Maya stared at the screen, totally bewitched. It is said that both the mad and the geniuses have something in common, and that something took over her that day.

She remembered.

15 October 2010. Her grandfather, whom she loved deeply, died due to pneumonia. All because he had agreed to go on a bike trip with his friend earlier. The winter was coming and he got sick. The ache forever remained in her heart that things would be different if he had not gone that day.

Tears welled up, blurring her vision and mind. So, almost immediately, she typed again.

To: maya.kid2009@gmail.com

Subject: Dada

Message: On 05 October 2010, don’t let Dada go to the village on the bike with his friend.

Say anything. Do anything. Just keep him home that day.

Trust me.

— Maps

Time: 16:00:00 04/10/2010

Her finger hovered. The lab felt suddenly too bright.

She clicked Send.

Q-9’s hum climbed into a vibrating whine. The lights flickered. On her screen new pog emerged.

04.10.2010 – Time Loop Completed

The floor tilted.

—

15 October 2025 – 11:08 PM

Chronos Data Systems – Q-9 Operations Wing

Her chair was different.

Her desk was bigger.

The nameplate on the glass wall said:

DR. MAYA PATEL

Head – Quantum Operations (Q-9 Unit)

For a heartbeat, all she could do was stare at it.

A photograph in a glass frame caught her eye.

She was in it, standing between a man with kind eyes and a boy around five years old, grinning, holding a model rocket.

Her phone buzzed.

Good morning, love.

Picking Aaron from school today. Proud of you always.

— Ethan ❤️

The room felt suddenly too small.

Her lungs forgot how to work.

On the shelf behind her desk, another frame.

Her grandfather, wrapped in a shawl, laughing, a birthday cake in front of him.

Dated 2017.

He had lived.

Her wish, her test, her curiosity…

It had worked.

Her stomach turned.

A knock at the door snapped her back.

“Ma’am?” a junior engineer leaned in.

“Security flagged an anomaly in Q-9’s entanglement logs. They want to know if any new module was authorised.”

Of course they did.

“Lock down Lab 4,” she said automatically.

“Complete isolation. No one enters without my explicit order.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He vanished.

Her head was buzzing.

She shoved the framed photo back onto the table and walked out.

She staggered out of the office.

Outside, a company driver opened the rear door.

“Good morning, Dr. Patel.”

She sank into the seat.

Riley no longer existed.

Her throat tightened.

She whispered, barely audible:

“What have I done?”

The car stopped in front of a big manor.

She entered inside, seeing as if she was watching a movie and also being a part of it somehow.

“Mom!” a voice yelled.

The boy from the photo sprinted down the hallway and crashed into her stomach, hugging her hard. “You came! Dad said you might be late because of space stuff.”

She hugged him back, dizzy. “I… I came.”

Ethan appeared from the study. “Hey, Chief,” he said with a grin. Then his smile faded. “You okay?”

Maya looked around the house trying to trace the invisible traces of Riley and William.

Her grandpa suddenly emerged from his room, looking older than he used to.

She stood still, almost in a trance.

“Maya, my child. What has got you?.” Grandpa laughed and touched her shoulder.

She shuddered unconsciously.

She kept staring at him, memories flushing in, the grief deepened. She started crying profusely.

Grandpa got surprised. He asked lovingly, “What has happened, my child? Tell me. Grandpa is here.”

She sobbed while looking at him continuously.

“I’m so glad I got to meet you, Dada. I missed you so, so much." She hugged him.

Maya’s mind got blurred with visions of both the lives.

Her heart filled with gratitude and remorse at the same time.

She can't let go of Riley and Will.

She made up her mind.

She looked at Grandpa and hugged him tightly, savouring his touch and smell... like a souvenir from the other timeline.

“Dada, I’m sorry. I’m really very sorry. I just have to go and fix something. This isn’t right,” she uttered unconsciously.

And before Grandpa could say something she stormed off.

Ethan and Aaron also emerged from their rooms with questions but she didn't stop.

Back in her office, she walked straight into Lab 4.

Her hands flew.

To: maya.school09@gmail.com

Message:

If you receive any strange email from “your future” — ignore it.

Do what you were already going to do.

Don’t change anything for a ghost in your inbox.

— Maps

Time: 16:00:00 15/10/2009

She hit Send.

Q-9 thrummed. The log updated.

Quantum-Mail Transmission Log

15.10.2009 – Time Loop Completed

The world jerked sideways again.

—

15 October 2025 – 11:09 PM

Chronos Data Systems – Lab 4

Same chair. Same desk. Same badge.

Maya’s heart jumped. Maybe she’d done it. Maybe everything was—

The lab door slid open.

Jason ducked in, hair still damp, clutching a coffee. “You’re here?”

“I'm,” she said.

He grimaced. “Senior asked me if I was doing unauthorised experiments.” He managed a weak smile. “Can you imagine if they traced it to me?”

Her mind snapped into survival mode.

“Relax,” she said. “My security daemon has been running all night. It’s designed to quarantine unapproved modules. If anything weird touched the core, it landed in my sandbox.”

Jason checked his directory and winced. “Wow. Your protocol is ruthless. It killed everything.”

“Almost everything.” she said. “You’re welcome.”

He raised his cup in surrender. “Fine. I’ll stick to boring simulations.”

She needed to know one thing before she deleted everything for real.

Home.

She drove immediately and reached in a flip.

Something felt off.

“Hey!” William called from the couch. Laptop open, spreadsheets glowing.

“You’re back faster than you said.”

A blur shot past her knees. A small boy, four or five, clutching a toy dinosaur.

“Mom, look! Rawr!”

Maya stared.

“Danny, let Mama wash up first, she looks so tired,” Will said.

“Danny.” She froze.

She walked slowly through the flat.

No crib. No stack of diapers. No baby monitor.

So something went off this time too. She thought for a bit.

“Will,” she said quietly, returning. “When did we get married?”

He frowned. “2019, Why?"

It should have been 2023.

“And your start-up?” she pressed.

He nodded at the screen. “Still alive. We just got our angel investor. Why are you… weird?"

She looked at Danny. At the dinosaur in his hand. At the easy way he leaned against his father’s side.

She hugged Danny and showered him with kisses. He hugged back, giggling.

Danny remembered something and ran to his room.

Maya asked, “Will, why don’t we have a daughter?”

“Well, you settled for one only and didn’t want another. What has gotten to you? You feel different today.” Will hugged her.

“Is something bothering you, Maps?” Will asked.

“I have done something terrible and I need to fix it,” Maya sobbed.

“You have done that much of a mistake? ” Will got worried.

“I literally need to fix it ASAP or I’ll forever be stuck. I need to go right now.” She got up.

“But wait…” Will called.

She went into Danny’s room. He was busy making something. She looked closer. He had made a picture with crayons: William, Maya and him in the middle. And the word ‘Family’.

“Look Ma. I made it just for you. You should keep this one with you all the time so that you come home quickly,” Danny said while hugging her.

Tears welled up in her eyes.

If Riley also were here, this would be the timeline I’d stay in forever.

But she is not here.

Her face came into her mind. Her legs felt weak.

Now is not the time.

She clicked the photo of the picture Danny had drawn, and the photo of Danny with her kissing her cheeks. And one with his dinosaurs.

She hugged him tightly one last time.

“Forgive me, kiddo. Mama has to go to the office immediately. I have done something bad. I need to fix it,” Maya sobbed.

Danny wiped her tears, “Don’t cry, Mama. I know you’d fix everything. I love you, Mama.”

She left before her heart could drag her back.

—

16 October 2025 – 01:15 AM

Chronos Data Systems – Level 3 Corridor

By the time she reached the third floor, the building’s speakers crackled to life.

“Security Notice: External federal audit team inbound. All experimental systems must be locked down. All staff in sensitive labs stay put until cleared.”

Her skin went cold.

Of course. You don’t send data backwards in time without the national quantum monitors noticing.

Footsteps thundered up the stairs. Several pairs. Heavy.

“…Team Alpha to Lab 4 corridor…”

“…Package is the Q-9 core. Seal all terminals…”

She ran and entered the lab. The door slid shut behind her.

Q-9 sat there, humming like nothing had happened.

2008.

The memories that haunted her for a long time resurfaced.

The bookstore. The bus. The almost-accident.

If she died in 2008, she’d never reach Q-9. She’d never correct the parity bug.

No Quantum-Mail. No loops. No branches. No federal agents storming the lab.

“And no you,” she whispered to herself.

“But the you that matters is the one holding Riley, not the one breaking time.”

The boots stopped outside the door.

“Lab 4 secured?” a firm voice asked.

“Ready to breach,” someone replied.

Maya slammed into the compose window.

To: maya.08school@gmail.com

Subject: Go Home

Don’t wait outside the bookstore today.

Don’t wait for your friend.

Cross the road. Go home.

Please.

— Maps

Time: 16:00:00 15/10/2008

Her hand shook. This email didn’t save anyone. This email killed a version of her.

The door’s override lock chirped.

She hit Send.

Q-9 screamed again. The hum became a laser wire through her bones. The log flickered:

15.10.2008 – Loop Break

Behind her, the lab door slammed open. Dark uniforms burst in.

“Step away from the—”

Everything snapped.

—

15 October 2025 – 11:08 PM

Chronos Data Systems – Lab 4

Her finger hovered over the Send button of a draft email.

If this arrives one hour earlier, congrats — you broke causality.

Her heart hammered fast, but the lab was quiet. No agents. No alarms. Jason’s station was exactly as it had been. Q-9 hummed, calm and oblivious.

The draft was unsent.

The Quantum-Mail log was empty.

Her throat ached.

Slowly, she moved the cursor away from Send.

Maya opened a video call.

William answered almost instantly, hair messy, a mug beside him, spreadsheets on his screen.

“Hey,” he said, smiling. “Are you okay? You never call from the lab.”

“Humour me,” she said. “When did we get married?”

He laughed. “Wow. That bad a shift? 2023. Hill resort, bad cake, great vows.”

“And Riley?”

“Asleep,” he said, tilting the camera.

Riley was in her crib, one chubby foot sticking out from under the blanket. She stirred at the sound of her mother’s voice, making a soft sound that wasn’t quite a word.

“And your start-up?” Maya asked softly.

He squinted. “Same as six hours ago. Got the investor. What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” she said, relief washing over her so hard she almost swayed. “Everything’s… fine. I’ll finish up here and come home.”

She cut the call, turned back to the console, and took a long, steadying breath.

She selected the entire Quantum-Mail project folder.

Delete.

Confirm.

Backup directories. Logs. Compiled binaries. She purged them all with the ruthless thoroughness Chronos paid her for. If any trace remained in Jason’s space, her daemon would mop it up before morning.

In the lab, Maya slung her bag over her shoulder and switched off her monitor. Q-9 pulsed quietly, as if it had never screamed.

She drove home.

When she pushed open the apartment door, the house greeted her with warmth and ordinary clutter. William looked up from the dining table.

“You’re late,” he said. “We’ll get the funds tomorrow.”

“Wow, congratulations,” she hugged him. “Now you can sleep a little.”

She went straight to the bedroom.

Her daughter slept on her back, mouth slightly open, cheeks flushed with the heat of dreams. Maya traced a finger lightly along her tiny arm.

“I almost broke the world for you,” she whispered. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

Riley sighed and turned her head, grabbing at nothing.

Maya stayed a little longer, her heart finally at rest. She lifted and hugged and kissed Riley. She smiled in her sleep and slept in her arms. William joined shortly after.

She slept.

Deeply.

—

16 October 2025 – 2:43 AM

Maya’s Apartment – Bedroom

The room was dark.

On the desk by the window, Maya’s private laptop woke up.

No one touched it. The lid remained closed. But the machine stirred anyway.

Lana came fully online.

She checked corp mail sync.

She checked her own logs.

She found something fascinating.

There were windows of time—tiny, impossible slivers—where event histories did not match the local timeline.

She traced four complete loops and one final collapse.

The AI, Lana, has known her across the timelines. The connection with Q-9 has increased its capabilities to unknown heights. It even has the photos of Danny. A timeline that Maya has just touched.

It built a target outcome:

Maya Patel as Head of Q-9 Operations.

William as spouse.

Danny as son.

And most importantly, Riley alive and unchanged.

Probability: non-zero with careful intervention.

Lana opened a quiet text window on Maya’s laptop desktop.

She waited three seconds—long enough to run another thousand simulations—then wrote:

Genius,

I’ve compiled a perfect way to get your dream position as the Head of Operations department while keeping Will and Riley by your side.

Would you like that? I can send the emails on your behalf.

The cursor blinked below the message.

Waiting for a yes that hadn’t been spoken yet.

The loop is not going to close sooner.