Five Minutes in the Future

Five Minutes in the Future

“A Glimpse Beyond Time and the Secrets It Holds”

Ethan Cole was a man obsessed with time. Not time management, not wristwatches or calendars—time itself. He was a researcher at a small, underfunded lab tucked behind a university campus, working on a project that no one took seriously: a device that could send signals into the future.

His colleagues laughed. His department head told him he should focus on “real science” if he ever wanted tenure. But Ethan kept working, night after night, fueled by caffeine and stubbornness.

Finally, one rainy Thursday evening, it worked.

The prototype was small, no bigger than a toaster, with wires spilling out of its sides and a cracked screen blinking faint blue. Ethan called it the Chrono-Receiver. Its function was simple—or at least, it was supposed to be: pick up messages from five minutes in the future.

He sat in his lab chair, heart pounding, and flipped the switch.

The screen flickered. Static hissed. Then, letters scrolled across the display:

“TURN OFF THE MACHINE.”

Ethan froze. The message was dated exactly five minutes ahead.

The First Messages

At first, Ethan assumed it was some kind of glitch or prank. He reset the machine, cleared the display, and waited.

Five minutes later, new words appeared:

“SOMEONE IS COMING. HIDE.”

Ethan laughed nervously. This was impossible. But his laughter died when the lab door creaked open.

It was just a janitor, pushing a mop bucket. Ethan almost collapsed with relief. Still, he couldn’t deny the machine had predicted the door opening.

He tried again.

This time, the machine printed: “CHECK THE COFFEE POT.”

Frowning, Ethan walked to the break room. The coffeepot was still on, burned nearly dry. If it had stayed on much longer, it could have caused a fire.

His hands trembled. The Chrono-Receiver wasn’t broken. It worked.

The Warnings

Over the next few days, Ethan tested it obsessively. Every message came true. Sometimes they were trivial—“Don’t forget your umbrella.” Sometimes they were helpful—“Save your document before the power goes out.”

But then the messages became… darker.

One night, while Ethan was alone in the lab, the screen flashed:

“DO NOT LEAVE THE BUILDING.”

Five minutes later, outside his window, he saw flashing lights. Police cars raced past, chasing a man who had just robbed a store down the street.

Another time, the machine told him:

“DO NOT TRUST THE MAN WITH THE RED TIE.”

Ethan didn’t know what it meant—until a week later, a university official wearing a red tie offered to “help fund” his research if Ethan signed over his patent rights. Ethan refused. Days later, that same man was arrested for embezzlement.

The Chrono-Receiver wasn’t just predicting accidents. It was protecting him.

The Stranger

One evening, after weeks of cryptic warnings, Ethan received his most chilling message yet:

“HE IS COMING FOR YOU. RUN.”

Ethan’s stomach dropped. He stared at the words, waiting for the five minutes to pass.

The lab door opened. A tall man in a dark coat stepped inside. He didn’t look like faculty. His eyes scanned the room, cold and sharp.

“Ethan Cole?” he asked. His voice was calm, but it carried an edge.

“Yes?” Ethan said cautiously.

“I need you to hand over your device.”

Ethan’s heart pounded. “Who are you?”

The man didn’t answer. Instead, he pulled a small black box from his coat—something that looked eerily similar to Ethan’s Chrono-Receiver.

“I know what you’ve built,” the man said. “You’re not the first. But you’ve gone further than most. That makes you dangerous.”

Ethan backed away. “Dangerous to who?”

The man’s expression didn’t change. “To everyone.”

The Choice

Panicking, Ethan glanced at his Chrono-Receiver. The screen glowed again:

“DON’T GIVE IT TO HIM. DESTROY IT.”

The man in the coat stepped forward. “You don’t understand what you’re playing with. A glimpse into the future isn’t harmless—it changes the future. Every time you act on what you see, you create ripples. Do you know how many timelines you’ve already broken?”

“I’ve saved lives!” Ethan protested.

“You’ve changed lives,” the man said sharply. “That’s not the same thing. You’ve set events in motion that shouldn’t exist. People who should have lived will die. People who should have died will linger. And the more you use it, the more unstable reality becomes.”

Ethan swallowed hard. Was this true? Could his invention really be breaking time itself?

Another message appeared on the screen:

“HE’S LYING. DON’T BELIEVE HIM.”

Ethan’s head spun. Who was telling the truth—this mysterious stranger or his own machine?

Five Minutes in the Future

The man’s hand hovered near his coat pocket, as though he were reaching for something. Ethan’s instincts screamed at him to move.

The machine flashed again:

“IF YOU DESTROY IT NOW, YOU LIVE. IF YOU DON’T, YOU DIE.”

Ethan’s eyes darted to the power cord. He could rip it out, smash the device, and maybe save himself. But what if the machine was manipulating him? What if destroying it only made things worse?

Five minutes in the future, he would know. But he had to decide now.

He grabbed the device. The man lunged.

Ethan hurled the Chrono-Receiver to the ground. It shattered, sparks flying. The screen went black.

For a moment, the room was silent. Then the man in the coat… smiled.

“Good,” he said. “You made the right choice.”

He turned and walked out, disappearing into the rain.

The Silence

Ethan stood in the ruins of his lab, chest heaving. The Chrono-Receiver was gone. The screen was dark.

No more warnings. No more five-minute glimpses. Just silence.

For the first time in weeks, Ethan was truly on his own.

He should have felt relieved. But instead, he felt a strange emptiness—as though he’d lost a part of himself.

What if the machine had been right all along? What if destroying it had sealed his fate?

As he stared at the broken pieces on the floor, Ethan wondered:

Was he safer without knowing the future?

Or had he just given up the only thing keeping him alive?

Only time would tell