She closed the file. The NEC manual updated itself silently.
“Maintains continuity of naval operations across probable branch discrepancies.” Branch discrepancies. That was the manual’s polite term for alternate timelines. These sailors didn’t work on ships. They worked on history itself .
The manual fell from her hands. Outside her window, Norfolk Naval Station was quiet. But her reflection—it didn’t turn when she did. It just smiled, salt water weeping from its eyes, and mouthed: “Welcome back, Observer.”
Mara dug deeper.