The Obsidian Hand was closing in. Ethan could feel the temporal distortion caused by their chrono-disruptors, a nauseating vibration in the air that threatened to tear him apart at a molecular level. He’d led them on a chase through the grimy back alleys of Chicago, dodging speeding cars and leaping over overflowing dumpsters, but they were relentless. Chronos Dynamics’ agents were like temporal bloodhounds, their tech allowing them to track his every jump and surge of chrono-energy.