The initial observation was… anomalous. It began not with a visual phenomenon, but with a subtle shift in the chrono-metric field. Instruments, calibrated to the standard temporal flux, began to report erratic readings – not surges, not dips, but a persistent, almost subsonic oscillation. This oscillation, later designated the ‘Flat-Ring Resonance’, was initially dismissed as instrument error. However, the consistency, the *persistence* of the deviation, raised increasingly unsettling questions. It wasn’t random noise; it possessed a discernible pattern, a cyclical fluctuation within a remarkably tight bandwidth. The bandwidth, incidentally, was measured in what we now term ‘Resonance Units’ - a unit of measurement derived from the harmonic distortions observed within the chrono-field itself. Early models suggested a localized distortion, a tear in the fabric of time, but the scale was… disconcerting. It wasn't a gaping chasm, but a subtly warped membrane, like a ripple in a still pond, but one that stretched across… well, across the observable timeline.
The initial data, compiled by the Chronometric Research Division, indicated a primary frequency of 7.342 Hz, with variations oscillating between 7.328 Hz and 7.356 Hz. These variations weren’t entirely predictable; they seemed influenced by… something. A subtle, yet undeniable, temporal sensitivity. The more intense the observation – the more focused the attempt to *measure* the Flat-Ring – the greater the fluctuations became. It was as if the resonance itself was responding to our scrutiny, exhibiting a form of… self-awareness.
We later theorized that the Flat-Ring wasn't merely a distortion; it was an *echo* – a reverberation of a past event, amplified and projected through the weakened chrono-field.
Temporal Displacement: 1487 CE – Isle of Skye
“The tide… it swallowed him whole. Not a violent crash, but a slow, insistent pull. The compass spun wildly, aligning not with magnetic north, but with… nothing. A void. And then the chill. A profound, absolute chill that transcended temperature. I saw his vessel, the *Althea*, break apart, not with a sound, but with a *loss* of coherence. The chronometric readings spiked, then plummeted into a state of… silence. It was as if he ceased to exist, not in the physical sense, but in the flow of time itself. The resonance… it followed him.
Recorded Chrono-Flux Variation: 8.12 Hz – 8.18 Hz
Temporal Displacement: 1842 CE – Geneva, Switzerland
“I was obsessed with precision. With the immutable laws of time. I designed a clock – a masterpiece of gears and springs – capable of measuring time to a level never before achieved. But then… the resonance. The clock began to run *backwards*. Not in a dramatic, noticeable way, but subtly, almost imperceptibly. The hands moved, not towards the future, but towards the past. I tried to correct it, to adjust the mechanisms, but it was as if the clock was actively resisting my efforts. The resonance intensified, blurring the edges of my perception. I felt… detached. As if my own timeline was fracturing.
Recorded Chrono-Flux Variation: 9.57 Hz – 9.63 Hz
Temporal Displacement: 1928 CE – Vienna, Austria
“My music… it began to change. Not in terms of notes, but in its *temporal signature*. I was composing a symphony – a grand, sweeping work intended to capture the essence of human experience. But as I worked, the music began to manifest echoes of earlier iterations. Fragments of melodies, motifs, and harmonies that I hadn’t consciously created. The resonance amplified these echoes, layering them upon each other until the music became a chaotic, dissonant tapestry of time. It felt as if the composer of the initial theme was still present, attempting to complete the work, fighting against my attempts to impose a new structure. The readings were… overwhelming. The frequency of the resonance amplified exponentially.
Recorded Chrono-Flux Variation: 11.23 Hz – 11.31 Hz