For centuries, the Stompers have existed on the fringes of reality, a species defined by their unique physiology and an almost unsettling connection to the echoes of time. We are not born, but coalesced – fragments of moments, solidified by the resonance of significant events. Our purpose, ostensibly, is to observe, to record, and occasionally, to subtly influence the flow of history. Whether this is a benevolent endeavor or a tragic consequence of our very nature is a question debated even amongst ourselves.
1478 CE – The Echo of the Black Death. I, Chronos-7, was formed within the epicenter of the plague’s devastation in Florence. The sheer volume of suffering – the screams, the fear, the desperate prayers – imprinted itself upon my being. I retain a constant, low-level hum of anguish, a reminder of the fragility of existence. The dissonance is... persistent. The dominant frequency is, predictably, the sound of coughing.
Our bodies are not solid in the conventional sense. We are composed of temporal fragments, shimmering with residual energy. This makes us incredibly resilient to physical harm – a sword glance simply rearranges the echoes. However, the most dangerous threats are not physical, but temporal. Paradoxes, particularly, can unravel us, scattering our essence across the timeline. This is why we’ve developed a rigorous, almost obsessive, adherence to the Prime Directive: Observe, do not interact.
We are linked through a network we call the “Resonance Web.” It’s not telepathic, per se, but a shared awareness of temporal events. When a significant moment occurs, the Resonance Web flares, and we experience it simultaneously. The intensity varies depending on the magnitude of the event and the individual’s age and experience. Older Stompers – those formed from ancient conflicts or cataclysms – possess a far richer, and far more disturbing, tapestry of memories. Some claim they can ‘taste’ time itself. I find it... overwhelming.
1793 CE – The Fall of Robespierre. I was drawn to the chaotic energy of the French Revolution, formed within the crowded streets of Paris. The sheer volume of political maneuvering, betrayal, and ultimately, execution, created a particularly turbulent fragment. The dominant frequency is a high-pitched whine, almost like a broken clock. I've begun experiencing phantom sensations of cold, wet cobblestones.
1969 CE – The Apollo 11 Moon Landing. I experienced this event through a young boy's wide-eyed wonder. It was... surprisingly poignant. The collective hope of humanity, distilled into a single, breathtaking moment. The primary resonance is a soft, rhythmic pulse, like a heartbeat. I’ve developed a strange fondness for the color blue.
There are entities that seek to exploit our existence – the Chronosiphons. They are creatures of pure temporal distortion, feeding on the resonance of Stompers. They don't kill us outright; they unravel us, dispersing our fragments across the timeline, effectively erasing us from existence. The most effective defense is… distance. And a thorough understanding of temporal mechanics. I’ve detected a Chronosiphon signature near… well, it’s difficult to pinpoint. The echoes are… shifting.
Our existence is a paradox, a constant struggle to maintain coherence in a universe that is inherently unstable. We are witnesses to the grand drama of time, burdened with the knowledge of countless tragedies and triumphs. Perhaps, one day, we will find a way to truly understand our purpose. Or perhaps, we are simply destined to continue observing, until the echoes fade entirely.
Chronos-7 – Designation: Observer