I awoke at dawn, as sunlight just began to filter through the window. For a moment, I forgot where I was, thinking it was just another day at the inn in Fog Corner. Only when I saw the circular window and nautical charts hanging on the wall did reality flood back—I had truly travelled to 1925.
I got up and walked to the window, looking out at the view. From this height in the lighthouse, I could overlook the entire bay. Compared to the Fog Corner I knew in 2025, the town of 1925 was much smaller, with only a few dozen houses scattered along the coastline. No modernised pier, no visitor centre, no coastal highway. Just pristine natural scenery and the simple character of a small fishing village.
I put on the clothes prepared beside the bed—a plain long-sleeved shirt and an ankle-length skirt, clearly everyday attire from the 1920s. The clothes fit perfectly, making me wonder where Jack had found them. After tidying myself up, I decided to explore the functioning lighthouse.
Carefully descending the spiral staircase, I came to the middle level of the lighthouse. This appeared to be Jack's living area, with a simple kitchen, a wooden table, and several chairs. Some photographs hung on the wall, and I walked closer to examine them. I discovered that several showed Jack with an older man who, judging by their similar features, might be his father. Another photograph included a young woman who resembled Jack somewhat, perhaps his sister.
The aroma of coffee wafted from the kitchen. Following the scent, I found Jack preparing breakfast. He wore a simple white shirt and braces, looking more casual than yesterday. Sunlight streamed through the window onto his profile, highlighting his well-defined features.
'Good morning,' he said, noticing my presence and turning with a smile, 'Did you sleep well?'
'Yes, thank you,' I nodded, 'The view from here is beautiful.'
'One of the benefits of a lighthouse,' Jack handed me a cup of coffee, 'You can see what others cannot.'
I accepted the coffee and tasted it carefully. It was stronger and more bitter than what I was used to, but had a unique aroma.
'So,' Jack sat down at the table, gesturing for me to join him, 'From 2025? That must be a very different world.'
I hesitated, unsure how much I should reveal about the future. 'Yes, very different. More advanced technology, faster pace of life,' I answered cautiously.
Jack didn't press for details about the future, which relieved me. Instead, he asked, 'How did you find the time fracture? Was it by accident or were you deliberately searching?'
'By accident,' I explained, 'I'm a research fellow in meteorology who came to Fog Corner to study its anomalous weather phenomena. At the top of the lighthouse, I found your journal, and then... it happened.'
Jack nodded thoughtfully. 'Meteorology... that makes sense. The fractures are always associated with specific meteorological conditions.' He stood up and walked to a cabinet in the corner, took out a heavy notebook, turned to a particular page, and pushed it toward me.
The notebook contained a series of dates and times, each with accompanying meteorological data—pressure, humidity, wind speed, and a value marked as 'duration of stillness.' To my shock, most of these records showed a 'duration of stillness' of 8.7 seconds, exactly matching what I had observed in 2025.
'Over the years,' Jack explained, 'whenever specific meteorological conditions occur—usually a combination of low pressure areas and high humidity, plus certain lunar phases—time experiences a "stillness." During these moments, the space around the lighthouse becomes... unstable. Sometimes, objects appear from other times; sometimes, people.'
'Like me,' I said softly.
'Like you,' he confirmed, then hesitated, 'And like... others.'
'Others?' I pressed.
Jack's gaze grew distant. 'Three years ago, a woman named Emily appeared near the lighthouse. She was also from the future, though earlier than you—around the 1990s. She stayed here for two weeks and three days, then... disappeared, returning to her time.'
Emily—my grandmother's name. Heart racing, I struggled to keep my voice steady: 'What was her full name?'
'Emily Morrison,' Jack answered, observing my reaction, 'Same surname as you. Was she a relative?'
'She was my grandmother,' I said quietly, feeling dizzy, 'She never told me she had been here.'A light of understanding flashed in Jack's eyes. 'That's why you have that pocket watch. I gave it to her as a memento. She said she would pass it to the next "chosen one" in her family.'
I unconsciously touched the watch on my chest, feeling its faint pulse. Suddenly, my grandmother's mysterious words on her deathbed took on an entirely new meaning. 'The lighthouse will call you, as it once called me.'
'Chosen one?' I asked, confused, 'Chosen for what?'
Jack stood and walked to the window. 'To repair the fracture,' he said quietly, 'The time fracture is growing, becoming unstable. If left unchecked, it will eventually lead to a catastrophic merger of the two time points.'
'What kind of catastrophe?'
'I'm not certain, but according to my calculations and observations, when the fracture fully opens, the physical laws of both time points will conflict, leading to a collapse of the structure of reality.' Jack's tone mixed the calmness of a scientist with the concern of one facing the unknown.I frowned; this sounded like science fiction, but considering I was now in 1925, everything seemed plausible.
'Why me? Why my grandmother?' I asked, though I had already vaguely guessed the answer.
Jack turned to me, his eyes holding a kind of destined certainty. 'The Morrison family has a special connection to the time fracture. There's something in your blood that can sense and influence the flow of time. This ability passes down through generations but only manifests under specific conditions.'
I recalled my strange experiences near the lighthouse—hearing the non-existent lighthouse sounds, seeing scenes from the past, feeling the abnormal flow of time. Everything suddenly had an explanation.
'That's why you weren't surprised by my appearance,' I slowly realised, 'You've been waiting for me, or someone like me.'
Jack nodded, his gaze holding some complex emotion. 'Since your grandmother left, I knew someday another Morrison would appear. Time has its own patterns and cycles.'
Just then, a knock at the door interrupted our conversation. Jack frowned, clearly not expecting visitors.
'Probably Margaret, my sister,' he explained, 'She comes with supplies every week.'
He walked to the door and opened it, but standing outside wasn't his sister but a middle-aged man in a formal black suit with a serious expression.
'Mayor,' Jack's tone noticeably cooled, 'What brings you here?'
'Mr. Howard,' the mayor nodded in greeting, his gaze passing over Jack to fall on me, a flash of suspicion in his eyes, 'I heard the lighthouse has a visitor?'
'My cousin,' Jack replied without hesitation, 'Visiting me from Boston.'
The mayor's gaze lingered on me for a moment, as if assessing the credibility of this explanation. 'Is that so? Quite a coincidence, right after that strange storm last night.'
Jack's posture became defensive, slightly blocking me from the mayor. 'She arrived yesterday afternoon, you just didn't notice.'
The mayor gave a cold laugh, clearly disbelieving this explanation. 'Mr. Howard, the council is concerned about your recent... research activities. We've noticed the lighthouse's energy consumption has been abnormally high lately.'
'I'm merely fulfilling my duty, ensuring the lighthouse functions properly,' Jack responded calmly, 'Isn't that what the town needs most?'
The tension between the two men was almost suffocating. Finally, the mayor stepped back, preparing to leave.
'Remember your duty, Mr. Howard. The lighthouse exists for the sole purpose of guiding ships, and not... anything else.' He said pointedly, then turned to me, 'I hope you enjoy your stay in Fog Corner, miss.'
As the mayor left, Jack closed the door and took a deep breath. 'Sorry,' he said to me, 'The mayor is overly concerned with everything around the lighthouse. Especially since those anomalies began appearing frequently.'
'Does he know about the time fracture?' I asked.
'No, but he suspects there's something unusual about the lighthouse.' Jack answered, 'That's why we must be careful. If the townspeople learn the truth, they might try to intervene, which would only make the situation more dangerous.'
I nodded, suddenly realising that I hadn't just crossed time but had landed in a situation full of secrets and potential dangers.
'Come,' Jack's tone lightened, trying to ease the atmosphere, 'Let me show you the rest of the lighthouse. If you're going to stay here for a while, you should at least know everything about this place.'
Following Jack through the various areas of the lighthouse, I marvelled at the elegance and complexity of 19th-century engineering. The heart of the lighthouse was the massive lens and lamp system at the top, capable of focusing light and projecting it far out to sea. The bottom level had an equipment room storing various tools and parts. The middle level, besides the living area, also had a room Jack called his 'laboratory,' filled with various scientific instruments and hand-drawn charts.
'This is where I study the time fracture,' Jack explained, his tone carrying the enthusiasm unique to scientists, 'I try to understand its patterns and predict its behaviour.'
Looking at these primitive but ingenious devices, I couldn't help but feel respect for Jack. Without the aid of modern technology, using pure observation and deductive reasoning, he had reached conclusions similar to those I had derived using advanced equipment.
'Your research is impressive,' I said honestly, 'Even in my time, this phenomenon is virtually unknown.'
Jack gave a modest smile, the first time I had seen him truly relaxed. In that moment, he was no longer just a historical figure or a mysterious lighthouse keeper, but a fellow explorer as curious about the unknown as I was.
'Ella,' he suddenly grew serious, 'There's something you need to know. According to my calculations, the time fracture has specific opening and closing cycles. If we can't find a way to send you back before the end of the next cycle, you might be trapped in this time... for a very long time.'
'How long?' I asked, feeling uneasy.
'According to historical records and my observations, about a hundred years,' he answered, meeting my gaze, 'Until the next major cycle begins.'
A hundred years—this meant if I missed this opportunity, the next possibility to return home would be in the future beyond 2025. By then, everyone I knew would no longer exist.
Jack seemed to read my fear and gently took my hand. 'But we will find a way,' he promised, 'We have time, knowledge, and this.' He pointed to my watch, 'Most importantly, we have you.'
His touch was warm and steady, giving me a strange sense of reassurance. Standing in the lighthouse of 1925, facing someone I had only read about in historical records, I felt an inexplicable familiarity, as if we had known each other for years.
Through the window, I saw fog rising again from the sea, glimmering with strange light in the sunshine. At that moment, despite being in a different time, facing unknown challenges, I felt a strange tranquillity, as if I had finally found a place I had been searching for without knowing it existed.