PROLOGUE: A BUTTERFLY EFFECT

MANHATTAN, NEW YORK, 2012

Pitter-patter.

"Do you know why it is that you are here, young man?" A short pause followed, and I know that meant he was looking for my name, located somewhere on that clipboard of his written in an — most likely — unreadable handwriting. A frown was etched onto his face as he did so, his posture as stiff as a board. He probably must have been too proud to not ask me for my name a third time.

While the old man was busy flipping through the many sheets of paper he was forced to bring along, his only pair of glasses were hanging dangerously loose on the bridge of his nose. To waste some time, I started with looking around, taking in the conference room. Its walls were pristine white, somewhat boring. The only type of decoration in the large space was a plant standing in the left corner. For a million dollar company they sure had cut back on the minimalistic interior of the building.

I know Byzantium wasn't built to entertain in the slightest, no. The many floors that made up this company were designed to do one thing only: intimidate its visitors. Now having seen it with my own eyes, I had to agree. The internet was right about this joint; the images generated by search engines hadn't lived up to the full blown potential of the building.

Pitter-patter.

The rain still hadn't stopped.

A gentle clicking of the old man's tongue made my head turn to look back at him, my gaze now removed from the soggy windows and the depressing weather. With appreciation in his green eyes he took in the papers scattered before him on the glass table. I just managed to see my résumé lying on top.

"So, Mr. Baines," he calmly continued, audibly clearing his throat, "to come back to my earlier posed question, do you know why you are really here?" A smile graced his tired face, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

I chose my words carefully, knowing that one slip up was enough to get my ass kicked out of the program. Offering him a small smile I stated, "Well, sir, I was interested in the special program you offered to newer interns. The job details required students who have the acquired grades, and at the same time are willing to sacrifice free time for science." I absentmindedly ran a hand through my dark hair. "That's why I am here, Mr. Carter. To not disappoint."

The head researcher took a pen out of his briefcase, only starting with making notes after I had quit talking. The scratching sound of the writing tool hitting the paper reached my ears.

"I see," he continued, pushing back the rim of his glasses with his index finger. "And that does not take away the fact this program in particular offers extra credit, even going so far as to include a decent paycheck for a young man like yourself? Would you care to elaborate on that?"

My lips curled into a forced smile, knowing fully well he had me cornered there. "Sir, with all due respect, I am a student. The money doesn't exactly grow on my back. As for the extra credit, I figured the experience this program offers would be of much more use to me than the extra credit I can get. I do have to admit that it comes in handy."

"Interesting answer," Mr. Carter stated, dropping the pen unceremoniously on the table. "How could that bold statement possibly go unnoticed, eh? Well, Daniel, it looks like we've come to an agreement. It already was established with your previous meeting, and I assume without your knowledge."

That was when he slid two separate piles of paper over the table into my direction, his mouth curved in a thin and subtle line as he noticed my raised eyebrows. He leaned back in the chair, crossing his arms before he continued his talking.

"I've been informed that this is your second meeting here at Byzantium Incorporated. Am I correct, Daniel?"

A shiver ran down my spine as he used my first name, and it would be an understatement if I said that it bothered me. Looking over the contract intently, scanning the many clauses, I managed to nod my head twice in confirmation.

"Yes, that's right, sir," I answered, not bothering to look up from the papers just to meet his eyes. "The last time I was here was… exactly a week ago. Seems like you guys just love to be punctual."

I didn't know why I had said that, especially since I wasn't the best person to keep my wits hidden for people like him. And at the same time, it wasn't particularly meant to be a joke, either. So, I was glad that this didn't make him smile in the slightest, seeing as that sentence had been overrun with blunt sarcasm.

I also didn't know why I hadn't told him about another visit in particular, about a year ago. But that didn't matter. He didn't need to know about the dreams and nightmares I had as a kid — the sort that kept on coming back and left me bathing in cold sweat each night.

But the real issue at hand? I didn't like the guy. He seemed to scrutinize my every move, as if he was waiting for a mistake to be made on my part. It would be very poetic if I said that he had the gaze of a hawk, but I couldn't help but think that was true with each minute. To top it off, I was convinced that he didn't want me here. While pondering over this and simultaneously trying to flip the many pages of the contract, I didn't even notice his sudden presence beside the place I was seated. It didn't change until he tapped my shoulder, making an attempt at catching my attention.

Luckily enough for the old man, it worked.

"Daniel?" Mr. Carter drawled out in that annoying voice of his, seemingly adamant on getting a response out of me. "I asked you a question."

"And what was that, sir?" I retorted, my eyebrows in a light frown as I turned to look at him. "Mr. Carter, that contract of yours isn't something I can read in less than 10 minutes." I swallowed hard, fearing I had been a bit too blunt, a mumbled apology having followed quickly.

He let out a chuckle, patting my back firmly before returning to his seat at the far end of the table. He cast another glance at the papers lying on table before resuming the conversation.

"Never mind that, kid. I'm simply not used to people using that sort of tone in my presence," he explained, keeping my gaze level with his. The man then leaned forward into his seat, the tone of his voice dropping a tad. "You seem to be unafraid of the consequences. I admire that. It certainly is a trait you should keep, Daniel. You're not just an intern. And you aren't here for only the science."

Somehow, Carter's words did not sound that promising anymore to my ears. That earlier glint in his green eyes had disappeared, an unreadable expression now masking his aged face.

"This conversation can go two ways, Mr. Baines."

My mouth curled into an empty smile. "Back to the formalities, huh?" I remarked, but he didn't seem too happy with my interruption.

"Let me repeat my words to you, Mr. Baines," he resumed while clasping his hands behind his back, leaving his seat unoccupied just to walk around the room at a tedious rate. "The conversation we are having right at this moment can have two endings. Let's look at it from a different perspective, shall we?"

From that moment on, I knew I shouldn't mess with him. I could only scowl at him from the place where I was sitting. One glance directed at the corner of the conference room told me we weren't with just the two of us. The guard must have taken his place there sometime during whatever this… fucked up meeting was.

Right— as if I could take punches from a guy who looked as if he took steroids. Maybe I should have hit the gym more often in the past.

The old man's sudden question caught me off guard, a confused expression appearing onto my face as I discarded any previous thoughts of going to the gym. Screw that.

"If you were presented with the opportunity to relive history, Mr. Baines, would you?" he quietly posed.

I chose to gape at him with my mouth wide open, probably looking like a complete idiot. But I couldn't care less for that, the current issue being of much more importance as I recalled all I knew about it. For starters, time traveling was impossible. It was supposed to be impossible, a thing used for entertainment in movies. How many articles had I not read about that stuff before? However, it was that simple sentence which made the gears in my brain run in overtime. The look on Carter's face I saw was blank, but my gut instinct told me he was dead serious about it all. Very serious.

A short pause followed on my side. I blinked a couple of times for good measure. "…You're kidding me, right?"

"And we have a sceptic in our midst. Ironic," I heard him mutter to, probably, himself. He simply continued with shaking his head. "I am afraid not, young man. What I just told you isn't a lie. If it wasn't possible, I would never have chosen to become a scientist in the first place. But you did not answer my question. Would you be willing to, Mr. Baines? Would you want to defy all you ever thought to be true, altering decisions made in the past? Imagine what kind of positive things you could do for mankind, for certain individuals."

"Maybe," I started, hesitating a bit. "I… I don't know."

"Here I thought you would not disappoint me." Carter shook his head. "You could be a god."

Then I realized it. They hadn't told me what the exact specifics were of the intern program. The other time I had been here for business purposes, it had simply consisted out of a conversation in which I had to show my qualities, and sway the company to hire me. A few days later they had called me to come back for another appointment. I never got the exact details. So, it wasn't until now that I knew I was signing up to be an experimental lab rabbit, just for their sake.

I knew I couldn't trust him.

"Do you now know why you are here, Mr. Baines?"

"Yeah, I think I do." Time to go.

I swiftly stood up from my chair, the movement apparently being hard enough to see the piece of furniture falling to the floor with a loud thud. I planned on hightailing it out of this building, making my way towards the elevators so I could leave. Sticking around wasn't an option. And it wouldn't have been an issue if that bulky guy hadn't blocked my only exit at the last moment.

I turned around to face the scientist, the adrenaline still rushing through my body. The need to wipe that grin off Carter's face was terrible, despite the mere attempt at it alone being pretty useless because of his private bodyguard. I could only spice up my vocabulary, scowling at the old man while I thought of a way to taunt him.

"You're insane," I bit back.

"Ah, aren't all scientists supposed to be insane? How else do we reach our goals in this world, our ideals?"

I then noticed the sound of heavy footsteps from the side coming towards me, but Carter's held up hand made his bodyguard still his movement. For now, I figured, daring to take a peek at the guy from the corner of my eyes before looking back at Carter.

"What the hell is it you want from me?" I couldn't help but sneer at him, following his movement.

Carter turned his back on me to look out the window, the rain still drizzling rather miserably. A mere snap of his fingers ensured that his bodyguard had a vice and painful grip around my right arm.

"You'll find out soon enough, boy."

That was all I heard before getting knocked out.

A/N: Hey y'all! So, this is my take on the 'time travel' aspect and whatnot. This is the introduction of the story; the fun should really begin in the following chapters. Please keep in mind that I'm writing this as I go, so updates will be most likely be sporadic. I also appreciate any kind of constructive criticism, or questions you might have.

Last but not least, I want to make clear that this story is based on the portrayals in the miniseries, not the real men themselves. Furthermore, I am only using the book as a reference to keep this story as historically accurate as possible.

Now, the disclaimer, which applies to the story as a whole:

Anything related to the HBO miniseries and the book written by Stephen E. Ambrose is not owned by me. The original characters and any plotline you might not recognize are my creation.