"That’s pretty impressive nonetheless. How long have you been stuck in this century, then?"
He brought up and waved both of his hands around vaguely, “I couldn’t say for certain, due to the infinite complexities of the multiverse. I mean, it’s extremely likely that she exists in this universe, the problem lies in the fractal like nature of choices in her life. If she didn’t do everything in this universe the way she did in the one I met her in, it’s possible she might not be a lawyer, might not be in New York, hell, she might be dead. And I’m afraid I don’t know anyone else who could easily point me at a gathering of superheroes…”
"I said, didn’t I? Two years. I’ve been a prisoner of this century for two years now." Or just about. With all the jumping back and forth she’d done, it was hard to keep track of the exact amount of time.
She ran a hand through her hair and blinked, trying to latch onto his every word. Multiple planets were easy enough to understand. They formed the basis of numerous science fiction movies. It was simple. Multiple universes took a greater degree of comprehension. She had to bite her tongue to keep from rattling off a laundry list of questions. Instead, she sighed.
"So we’re looking for a woman who may not even exist, or who may exist but not as the same person you once knew. She may or may not be in New York, possibly north of Albany. Essentially, we’ve got nothing at all to work with. Nothing concrete.” Her lips formed a taut line. “I cannot say I like our odds, but I suppose I’ve seen worse.” She raised her glass. “So much is happening—or will be happening—so fast. It’s a lot to take in in one night. I think I’d rather consider the details in the morning.”