There had been no reason for him to venture out of the timeline when he had, no explosion at the Presidio thanks to an overactive power set that he hadn’t gotten a handle on when it was working in tandem with his telepathy and no mission to gather up a shield of particular national importance from somewhere in the depths of time; no reason to ditch the potential responsibility had in cleaning up the mess that had come with the departure of the Cabal and the Godhead and the mirror with all of its unknown cosmic purpose other than to make a mess of things and no particular need to escape though he was glad to be a few decades away from any concept of a “space station”, never mind those with the technological prowess of Peak VII; but he had done it, slipping through the time stream on his own accord to what might have been a simpler time at face value despite all the social and political aspects that, sitting in that same old diner with that same old shit coffee that he usually did when finding a common pinpoint throughout the years he traversed, seemed to bypass him, echoed only on the news until someone found reason to change it to something everyone could enjoy.

The time he stayed in these points often didn’t matter, seconds in the grand scheme of things and almost always matters of unimportance – no one was going to miss a cup of coffee and some eggs eaten by a stranger they were never apt to see again unless he had returned to the same place in space and time – but each one had been a ripple, something that was noticeable to those who had the power or technology to find it, and he’d blame it on the events of the week and perhaps his own ego that he didn’t see the trouble coming until it was too late.

A portal opening in the middle of a diner in the middle of the 1950’s wasn’t a normal occurrence and neither was the appearance of the humanoid android, white “fleshed” with a zero emblazoned in black on his head, Nate all but jumping up to his feet as the rest of the patrons and the diner staff took to panic. Some hid under their tables or behind the counter, one even deciding the newspaper in tow was going to be proper enough cover from the strange creature that had just, as Cable knew, whipped through time from a far distant future – the very same he had grown up in. While A.D.A.M. might have been built to help Clan Chosen, while its primary purpose had been peacekeeping, he knew well enough nothing ever stayed so well-intended – especially not under the manipulations of others.

While not a wise idea to lay down arms, he found himself at a disadvantage under the single focus of Zero, the cyberpathic buzz found emanating from the television set growing quiet while the thoughts of those in the restaurant dispersed, telekinetic energies shifting to an all time low the longer he stood there; so he opted to stop standing there, weapon at the ready to fire in Zero’s direction in his run for the door. His burst out was normal, human in most parts, aided not by telekinetic blasts or even quickly malfunctioning cybernetics, but the weight and inertia of his own body; but out running a teleportation unit was difficult, if not impossible, and he quickly found his weight shift, body pushed from one portal and into another…

… and square into a mirror, crashing into it arm first where it seemed to pin until the pressure of Unit Zero’s hand smashed a portion of his metallic flesh. It was a small space, difficult to maneuver, let alone when recently crashed into someone’s bathroom vanity with a loud thud and crash he was sure had been heard through the house; and just like that, in what he was sure was a pop and fizzle of electronic parts as he tried to wrap his brain around what happened, A.D.A.M. Unit Zero had gone, disappeared into the time stream.

And where Zero had been, Stryfe wasn’t far behind.

Not only had that been a dangerous situation for him, it was now one for a woman in the other room, listening to a news report on the radio that spoke of a new leadership change in Cuba that was enough for Nate to narrow down his place in time - Friday, February 13th, 1959 - before the volume had been turned down, voices replaced by footsteps prompted by the swirling thought in her head that there was something wrong, that someone had broken into her house, and that she needed to call the police; and Nate, for his part, knew he had to get out of there, believing readily enough he could until he couldn’t. Something activated, he knew that much, but he hadn’t been the one to move – to the past, to the future, to any point in time that was different from his current present.

“Belle?”

“Looks like we’ve got a problem, Nate. Whatever A.D.A.M. Unit Zero did, we’re stuck here.”

“What do you mean ‘we’re stuck here’?” It was a stupid question and he knew Madelyne would have a good reason to charge him “stupid tax” for it, but future technology being what it was and unavailable in this period of time, Nate was already considering the implications of malfunctioning technology – from the likeliness he would never get back to the right place in time, something that had happened all too often in one life or another, or that someone else might have been ripped from their place in time thanks to incorrect temporal targeting and anchoring; and in the even Stryfe did show up, it would be with Nate and perhaps anyone else trapped in the situation at a disadvantage. Where would he find parts for a time travel device when that had been something widely regarded as fiction, never mind presented in overly large, gaudy, and certainly not as small form as the device built into his arm? If he could find such things, where would he be able to find someone who could actually fix it if he couldn't very well do it himself?

There were any numbers of uncertainties and all it made was a mess.

”I think it means you better get ready to figure out how to get out of police custody, hon.”

He could already imagine the A.I. shifting appearance, throwing on a police uniform and spinning around a set of handcuffs from her spot on his shoulder like some sort of annoying joke, one that stung a little bit more considering former employment, but there wasn’t any time for him to stand there and reprimand her when action was required. Nate stepped away from the counter for the door, opening it right up and nearly into the face of the homeowner who, still on the phone and startled all the same, gasped and screamed at the sudden surprise of someone who clearly didn’t come into her house suddenly leaving it. He didn’t suspect it slowed down the police dispatcher on the other end, just as quick in her response to send a car right away.

It probably didn’t help he looked something short of human without focus on the telepathic blocking of his cybernetic parts, the shine of metal plating as clear as day even as he took steps for the front door, one hand up to try and calm her down while the other reached for the door behind him. Of course, it didn’t help. Of course, it probably just made things worse, but he suspected that was going to be his luck if this was how his week was going to start.

”I’m really sorry to barge in on you, ma’am. I really didn’t mean it,” he said, motioning to the vacated bathroom. “Don’t worry about the mirror in there. I’ll get it fixed.” As for when, why did that really matter when it already seemed his luck had exploded tenfold and there was seemingly no going back now – not when all he had was faulty technology.