Ella`s Story
My Love From The Future
BOOK TWO

Chapter 11 : Prophecy

Episode 22 : October 30 2019 Wednesday 9th grade

Copyright © 2019-2025 Gary Brandt. All rights reserved.

The Italian restaurant glows with amber light, its air rich with the scent of garlic bread and marinara. Ella, Roxana, Eileen, and Helana sit around a checkered tablecloth, their school bags tucked under chairs. Mr. Danvers, Eileen’s father, sips a glass of wine, his eyes warm but probing. The clink of cutlery and soft chatter from nearby tables create a cozy hum, but an undercurrent of purpose lingers.

“So, Dad, why are we at our favorite place?” Eileen asks, twirling spaghetti. “What’s the occasion?” “I’ve missed you, with all the time you’re spending at Alisha’s,” Mr. Danvers says, smiling. “But I have another motive. The mid-century conflict the AI predicts—do you know more about it? Has anything new come up?” Ella smirks, leaning back. “Knew it! You’re here to pick Helana’s brain, Mr. Detective. Go ahead—you’ll do it anyway.” Mr. Danvers raises his hands, earnest. “Only with respect, Helana. You don’t have to answer. It’s your choice.”

“I can share some,” Helana says, her voice soft but steady. “You won’t like it, though. You want specifics, but I only have fuzzy generalities. My being here changed everything.” “Specifics would shift if I knew them,” Mr. Danvers says. “Generalities work.” Helana’s eyes widen. “You understand temporal dynamics? Is that how you saw me when the girls couldn’t?” “I’ve researched this for thirty years,” he says, leaning in. “As a teen, I saw a craft—otherworldly. It felt like they knew me, like I knew them, and I’d see them again when the time was right. Was it your people?” “No,” Helana says. “We don’t use craft. It could’ve been one of hundreds of species, from countless domains or timelines, even your future.”

“Tell me about this great conflict,” he urges. Helana exhales, her gaze distant. “My knowledge comes from ancient history in my timeline, millions of years in your future—more legend than fact. From now, consciousness grows. Hunger and war lessen; nations cooperate. It’s an awakening, a new prosperity sparking a baby boom, pushing the population toward twelve billion. But by mid-century, the awakening falters. Kindness fades; religion’s truths fall out of fashion. Earth’s changes—unstable weather, an erratic sun—breed anxiety. Doom dominates culture. Fights erupt over scarce resources, but mostly, old men cling to power diluted by expanded consciousness. They ignite war to reclaim it.”

She glances at her friends. “These three girls are key. Roxana becomes a preacher, uniting religious factions to resist rulers’ divisive tactics. Eileen works in government, countering warmongering. Ella builds banks—seed, technology, data, tool—to rebuild quickly if culture collapses. A solar cell and smartphone can store vast knowledge, like a mobile encyclopedia.” Helana’s voice drops. “Still, nearly 95 percent of life is wiped out. Humanity shrinks to scattered enclaves. Coastal civilizations vanish. Without these girls, humanity might’ve perished.”

“These three,” Mr. Danvers says, “but now there are four.” “Yes,” Helana says. “That’s why it’s different now. Thousands will support them, and I’m the wild card. In one timeline, I wasn’t here; now I am. My mother feels ripples in the temporal fields—massive changes. My past, your future, is altered. I just don’t know my role. I know their strengths, but I’m lost.” “Can your parents see what’s changed?” he asks. “No,” Helana says, alarmed. “Viewing a timeline in flux risks catastrophe. Temporal turbulence would block them anyway.”

“Are we switching timelines—one where you weren’t here to one where you are?” he asks. Helana hesitates. “The multiple timeline hypothesis exists, but my people believe each domain has one timeline, twisting and turning. Changes require balancing temporal, spatial, and experiential inertia—planet-sized energy. Something else is happening here.” “What kind?” he presses. “Legend says millions of years ago, level 10 entities—beings one with the One Infinite Creator—restored Earth’s life after a catastrophe. Only they can alter timelines without chaos, reshaping reality like a lucid dream. This feels like their intervention, or the Creator’s.” “Divine intervention,” Mr. Danvers murmurs. “Someone’s praying,” Roxana says, half-smiling. “I pray constantly now,” he says. “I’ve started,” Ella says. “Not religious nonsense, but to whatever made this place, just in case.”

“Do my girls survive?” Mr. Danvers asks, his voice tight. “I’ll be old, likely gone. You’ll be in your forties—too young to die.” “They survive,” Helana says, “and rebuild, so by the 22nd century, over a billion humans thrive again. Their influence and connections likely protect you too. You’ll be in your seventies or eighties, probably alive. With me here, I’ll ensure it.” “What about Earth’s destruction?” he asks. “You mentioned all life dying.” “It’s legend,” Helana says. “Early 22nd century, something odd happened—a solar mini-nova, a black hole, a cosmic jet? It seemed to start on Earth, spreading faster than light across the solar system.”

“How?” Ella asks, frowning. “My teachers’ hypothesis,” Helana says, “involves a multi-planet communication system using scalar wave technology, near-instantaneous even to Neptune’s moons. It interacted disastrously with cellular processes. Each cell contains analog, digital, and quantum processors in membranes and microtubules. Something shut them off, killing all life instantly—except some viruses. Underground bases, Moon and Mars colonies, gone in seconds.”

“You said life was replaced?” Mr. Danvers asks. “Yes,” Helana says. “DNA is multidimensional, bending light from your dense domain to lighter ones, like mine. You exist in multiple domains unknowingly. When your dense body died, lighter versions persisted, drawing energy from the collective soul. Earth’s people awoke in Level 5 domains—mine, others—forgetting Earth due to consciousness filters, preventing cross-domain contamination. After 3,000 years, their memories returned. With help from other levels, groups repopulated Earth using technology like what brought me here. Plants, animals returned after 12,000–13,000 years of desolation. Some stayed in Level 5; I’m their descendant. You’re my ancestors—I’m of Earth.”

“What’s Earth like in your time?” he asks. “Our Level 5 domain diverged from Earth,” Helana says. “Our human DNA remains, so I look like you, but Earth’s evolved differently. The sun’s unstable, life’s underground or underwater. Humans—or their descendants—are scattered across galaxies. Earth fulfilled her role as life’s cradle, but she’s fading.” “Millions of years?” he asks. “Roughly 500 million,” Helana says, “but we’re not temporally locked with Earth. Could be 200 million or a billion. There were plans for solar sails and anti-graviton tech to move Earth from the dying sun, but it’s a delay, not a fix.”

“You sound like an old scientist, not a 14-year-old,” Mr. Danvers says, awed. “Just repeating my teachers,” Helana says, blushing. “But it’s harder to remember. Acclimating to this domain, I’m forgetting my past. Consciousness filters are making me another Earth girl. I hope I don’t lose everything.” “Like kids with past-life memories that fade,” he says. “I have questions about that, but another time.” “You won’t forget,” Ella says fiercely. “I won’t let you. Night school will keep it fresh.” “I’m having an identity crisis,” Helana admits. “Thanks, Ella. Don’t let me forget.”

At the Danvers’ house, the living room is warm with the scent of chamomile tea. Mrs. Danvers, in a cozy sweater, greets the girls as they pile in, their overnight bags slung over shoulders. “Glad to have you, giving Alisha a break,” she says. “I hope my daughters come home soon. Whatever kept you away is gone now.” “Thanks, Mrs. Danvers,” Ella says. “We appreciate it.” “Hospitality?” Mrs. Danvers laughs. “You’ve lived here as much as anywhere. You’re all my girls. Roxana, bunk with Eileen. Ella, take Helana’s room.”

In Helana’s room, fairy lights cast a soft glow. Ella sets up her book light as Helana fluffs pillows. “Dark or night light?” Helana asks. “Book light’s enough, so dark’s fine,” Ella says, climbing into bed. “Ella, can I ask something?” Helana says, hesitant. “You just did,” Ella teases. “What’s up?” “Which boys at school do you like? I don’t want us crushing on the same one. It’d be weird, since we’re like twins.” “None of them,” Ella says. “Pick whoever you want.” “Really?” Helana says, surprised. “Do you like girls?” “God, no!” Ella laughs. “Girls annoy me—except you three. I love my girls.”

“I’m confused,” Helana says. “No relationships?” “Someday, maybe,” Ella says. “I’m too busy. I want to ace high school, night school, college, get a degree, job, house, car. If any great guys are left, I’ll think about it.” “Don’t you dream about love, marriage, kids?” Helana asks. “I can’t imagine dating, let alone marriage,” Ella says. “I dream about it sometimes, but I shelve those thoughts. If your predictions are even half-true, I won’t have time for that. You girls are my family—I don’t need more.”

“I hope I didn’t ruin your future,” Helana says, tearing up. “I saw you as a happy wife.” “Don’t worry,” Ella says, softening. “I wanted to be a stay-at-home mom like mine, but I’m rethinking that. Not because of your predictions—I’m not sure they’re real. They might be imagination. I’m facing the future with no expectations, no imaginary timeline. You shouldn’t either. Let’s take it one day at a time.”

“I’m scared,” Helana admits. “I’ve seen your futures, Roxana’s, Eileen’s, but not mine. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do or become.” “Forget ‘supposed,’” Ella says. “Be your best self every day. None of us know our future, and like you said, seeing it changes it. You’re alive on a messed-up, beautiful planet. Enjoy it.” “Okay,” Helana says, exhaling. “I’ll enjoy being alive and let the future come. But I dream about relationships—constantly now.” “That’s hormones,” Ella says. “They want you to bolt, grab the first guy who smiles, and pop out babies. That’s a future-killer. Work on controlling it.”

“Will you help me?” Helana asks. “Always,” Ella says. “I love you more than anything, twin. When you date, I’ll help. If he hurts you, he’s toast.” “Don’t hurt him if I love him,” Helana says, smiling. “Pick a good one, then,” Ella says. “I’m protective, if you haven’t noticed.” “I noticed,” Helana says. “I love you more than anything too. Thanks for protecting me.”

In Ella’s quiet bedroom, the clock ticks past midnight. Helana’s soft breathing fills the air as Ella opens her diary, her thoughts swirling.

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NEXT >> Chapter 23
Daddy-Daughter Moment

Helana, who appears to be from another dimension or realm, bonds with her adoptive father Mr. Danvers over breakfast while grappling with her new human existence and the fading memories of her original domain. Meanwhile, her nearly identical sister Ella encounters mysterious beings claiming to be Pleiadians who insist she's a `Star Seed,` but she suspects they're actually dangerous reptilian entities in disguise and seeks guidance from both a military commander and Helana.

<< PREVIOUS Chapter 21
21

Four teenage girls reluctantly attend a mandatory survival training class during their school break, where they learn about historical atrocities through Ella's mother's account of her grandfather's survival during the 1947 India-Pakistan partition. The group then travels to a remote South Pacific island for hands-on survival training, where they learn essential skills like fishing, foraging, and assembling bug-out bags while gradually embracing the experience despite their initial resistance.

FIRST Chapter 0 Sleep Over

Thirteen-year-old Ella and her best friends Eileen and Roxana encounter an interdimensional being named Helana during a sleepover, who appears as different benevolent figures to each girl and reveals glimpses of their legendary futures. When Helana tries to leave after accidentally revealing herself and disrupting their timelines, Ella cleverly traps the entity by claiming authority over her domain, forcing Helana to stay as their `genie in a bottle` despite her pleas to return home.