Haven… The underground city. A cesspool. A rats’ nest. Crime flourished here, like weed. Gangs, brothels, smugglers, anything and anyone outlawed in the old world could be found here. A city nothing short of Sodom and Gomorra.
It was on fire. Numerous bodies covered the blood red streets. Innocents trampled in the stampede. Innocents killed as collateral damage. Blues, traitors, killed by a monster, unleashed. Cries of pain and horror echoed between the walls of huts and shabby houses.
Haven… The underground city. Reduced to ruins once again.

Sarah looked at the hulking form a few feet away from her. He stood frozen, like a statue. She had come here to get answers, but had only been presented with more questions. It appeared he was lost in thoughts, staring at the house he had to watch, and yet everything in his posture told her that he was well aware of his surroundings.
It was something she had already noticed during dinner before Derek had started provoking him. She could see the hard, dark look on his face while his eyes scanned the surroundings and the house, the way he did it reminding her of the machine. And she tried to imagine how it felt to be part man, part machine. He had said that he hadn’t wanted it. It had not been his choice but her son’s in the future.
“It’s worse than ever before, right?” She asked slowly.
He turned his head a little and she could see him glancing at her from the corners of his eyes: “I don’t know about that,” he said softly.
“We can never stop it, can we?”
“We stopped it. Skynet went offline a few days ago,” he answered.
“It’s not what I meant… I meant it will always happen. No matter what we do, it happens still,” she whispered, following his gaze when he looked back at the house again. “You, younger you, will go through this again.”
He nodded: “He will. He will change, like me. I’m not who I met in my teens. He will not be me in the future.”
“No fate but what we make for ourselves,” she said in agreement.
“The future is not set. We change it by doing things differently from the previous time. Other Tyler, he had never met me when he was a teen. I did get to meet me, and I swore that I would never become him, but I did… In the end, I did.”

He hid between the roof beams, in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to strike, watching the front door like a hawk would watch his prey. Fast approaching footsteps. They were coming for him. The door gave way with a loud crack when it was kicked in.
Six men in blue uniforms stormed in, followed by a seventh man dressed in black uniform. He assessed the situation from his perch while the six men in blue turned the place upside down.
“This place is deserted, sir,” one of the Blues said to the man in black.
“Those fucking rats! They sold us out!” The man in black seethed. “Put out an alert for the Schneiders and their guest! They can’t be far yet!”
One of the Blues nodded and radioed in the alert.
Without making any noise, he lowered himself from the beam down to the ground.
“Sir,” the Blues, who had radioed in the alert, exclaimed startled when he saw their target appear behind their leader.
Tyler shoved the man in black into the wall while the six Blues surrounded him. Adrenaline began to surge through his veins, and yet he felt icy calm. Two out of the six Blues reached for their belts and took off their electric cattle prods before taking uncontrolled swings at him.
He jumped back, dodging their poor attempts with great ease: “I would not do that if I were you,” he growled.

Robin Baxter lowered the binoculars and sighed. Haven wasn’t big compared to the cities of the old world but it was a city. A first series of explosions caused the ground to quake and the blast waves made the air tremble.
She looked at the man standing next to her: “What have you done?” She asked him in a firm voice.
“What I had to,” the man answered slowly.
“What have you done?” She repeated her question, this time her voice was trembling from restrained emotions.
“I did what I had to,” he sighed.
She watched as yellow-orange clouds of fire reached for the sky and could barely hold back the tears. Tears that had nothing to do with the destruction of Haven, and everything to do with the only man she had ever really cared for.
“Oh god, what have you done?” She seethed, turning to him suddenly and pulling back to slap him across the face.
He turned to face her and she was shocked by the look on his face: “I’m sorry, Bax, but this had to be done.”
“You unleashed the monster in him! You did this to him!” She screeched.

Pitiful cries of agony fell upon deaf ears. Sickening cracks of bones snapping, the squishy sounds of flesh torn apart. Civilians struggling and fighting to get away.
Footsteps approaching fast. Another squad of Blues sent to stop him: “Metal!”
Blood splattered everywhere. Slowly he was making his way to ‘city hall’, only hindered by the guards from time to time. Another crack. Another squish.
Bodies lay strewn across the streets of Haven. His walk was that of one of them, the blank expression on his blood smeared face too. His arms were covered in blood and gore up to his elbows. The monster had been unleashed.

He sat down on the edge of the roof. It had been a horrible night. A.w.o.l. resistance fighters, tired of the war. Civilians, unable to fight. They had died at his hands. So many people had died that night when the monster had roamed the streets of Haven. He had made no distinction between man or woman, between healthy or sick. Haven had been a safe place for traitors of the human kind and he had gone on a killing spree.
John Connor had used him. He had been sacrificed like a pawn in a game of chess. An Undertaker with nano’s on the brain, the ultimate killing machine. It was the infiltrator Skynet had been looking for, had been trying to create. That was why Skynet had kept him alive; a human infected by micro machines, becoming one of them without the Hounds catching on. That was why John Connor had sent his mother back in time: he was a Skynet creation turned good.
He looked at his left arm. It was an added insult to injury. It had not been enough that he had practically murdered all citizens of Haven as a human, the cyborg arm marked him for the monster he had become.
One full strike with the hotshot[1] had triggered the nanoattrioids, setting his mind on fire once again, glaring red eyes staring down at him from darkness. He had died that night, like he had died on the morning of their escape from Century a few months before.
“Are you okay?” She asked while she sat down a few feet away from him.

“Are you okay?” She exclaimed upset when she saw him come down the stairs of the lower tunnel complex. “Ty?”
He was covered in blood from head to toe, making it impossible to see if he was injured or not.
“What happened?” She asked, fighting off the urge to race up to him.
He seemed different. He was different. A hollow look in his eyes, that did not bode well. He was feverishly shaking all over. His breathing was hitching and shallow.
“What happened?” She repeated panic-stricken as she watched him fall to his knees. “Tyler?”
The fact that he wasn’t talking scared her more than seeing him covered in blood and gore. When she addressed him, he always answered with a word or a glance. He didn’t answer her now.
“Are you hurt? Do I need to get Ethan or Robin?”
He glanced at her, his eyes still empty, and shook his head before he placed his hands on the floor. Her heart was pounding erratically. What the hell had happened in three days he had been out? He was still there, but how much of him was left?
She grimaced when he threw up whatever he had eaten that day. It reminded her of what had happened so many years ago in Mexico. A bug. Not one you would get from eating something bad. But one you would get from severe psychological trauma. She had been sloppy and had made mistakes, leaving vital clues behind and leading Cromartie to her son.
In a desperate attempt to save her humanity, she had let that boy at the bowling alley live where she should have killed him or at least should have let Cameron kill him. However she had pitied the poor soul and had let him live, only to be found, tortured and killed by Cromartie. It had set a chain reaction in motion. She had neglected her duty and it had nearly gotten her son killed.
Hesitantly she walked over to him and knelt on one knee next to him while she gently touched him on the shoulder. Whatever had happened, she felt that he needed to know that she was still there with him.
She felt his muscles flex and unflex underneath her touch as he threw up again. It killed her to see him like that and not know what had happened. He had told her three days ago that her son wanted to discuss something with him and then he had disappeared for those three days, only to return like this. Something very bad had happened.
Slowly she rose to her feet, leaned down a little and held her hand out to him: “Come… Let’s get you cleaned up,” she offered with a reassuring smile.

Cold. He had been so cold. Like the dead.
“Yes, I’m fine,” he answered while he squinted, not hearing the next time she said.
“Didn’t you hear me?” He could hear the annoyance clearly present in her voice.
“Something’s wrong,” he stated while he grabbed the ledge and jumped off onto the balcony of the second floor.
“What’s wrong?” Her voice trailed down from the rooftop.
“Reese, that’s what’s wrong,” he growled, jumping over the barrier of the balcony to the floor. “He’s a hothead, just like his little brother. Both very capable of doing the stupidest things, but at least Kyle would stop and think it over once in a while.”
He almost lost his footing when he landed on the uneven grass, Without seeing the traffic, with only thing on his mind, he started to run towards the Connor house. Instinctively he jumped and slid over the hood of a passing car, only glancing darkly at the frustrated driver who was honking like a madman.
Derek was a soldier with a short fuse. Not that he would kill his nephew, but he could hurt him. He could hurt him badly, if not by action then by words. The futures as they had known it should remain covered by the veils of time and not be disclosed in a moment of rage.
He picked up the pace, jumped over the fence and stormed up the steps of the porch before he rammed the front door of its hinges with his left shoulder without slowing down for a second. He had to stop Derek from making a huge, life-altering mistake. Registering Cameron’s defensive stance and her threat assessment, he ran past her to John’s room.
“You don’t know what you’ve done!” He heard Derek howl.
He picked up the speed even more, slamming into the wall while he turned the corner towards John’s room..
“The kid doesn’t know, Reese!” He barked when he stormed into John’s room.
“He does now!” Derek seethed through gritted teeth as he glared at him.
“What did he tell you, John?” He asked in a friendly manner while he looked at the frightened teenage boy.
“That this Baxter woman is your mother,” John squeaked. “Is she?”
He contemplated his answer: Should he tell the truth or lie? He choose the latter: “No.”
“John, are you okay?” Sarah asked upon racing into the room, immediately positioning herself between the two men and her son, ready to attack the first who would dare to even look at him. “Cameron?!”
“Yes?” Cameron asked while she appeared in the door opening.
“Get these two the hell out of my house,” Sarah ordered. “Did Derek hurt you?” She asked concerned when she patted her son down to check for injuries.
“What?” John mumbled tearfully, shocked beyond words. “No,” he answered firmly.
“I guess you’ve finally outstayed your welcome,” he said with a crooked grin while Cameron grabbed Derek roughly by the upper arm.
“So did you!” Derek yelled, trying to yank himself free. “You’re lucky that she has me in a vice grip!”
“Want to put that theory to the test?” He challenged amused. “You get to punch me once, I get to punch you once and to even things out I won’t even use my good arm.”

She tenderly played with locks of his tousled hair while he lay curled up against her with his head in her lap. Whatever had happened two days ago, it had changed him. It had changed him beyond recognition.
Whispers in the tunnels told of a monster, unleashed. A monster that had destroyed the city of Haven. She didn’t have to ask him to know what, or better, who the monster had been.
After he had returned and had fallen ill, she had cleaned him up and tended to his wounds. He had turned away from her when she had reached out to him after yet another violent night terror, tormenting him in his short sleeps.
He had been the monster, unleashed. He had been the destroyer of Haven, and in return Haven had destroyed him. She remembered how heartbroken he had been after returning home from Century the first time, when Skynet had turned him into an Undertaker. Mercy kills had eaten away at his soul.
His hair slid through her fingers. She wanted to help him, but at the same time she knew that no one could help him face and defeat the demons he was facing now. She wanted to make everything better, but she knew that she couldn’t.
“Damn you, John,” she whispered while he clutched at her arms again as if to hold on for dear life.