The world did not end. It just... shuffled.
Arden stood at the edge of the "Genesis-Central Park"—a sprawling green lung that was half hyper-modern garden, half gritty 20th-century playground. Above her, the sky was a brilliant, impossible violet, lit by two moons. One was the familiar, cratered rock of Earth. The other was a shattered ring of debris, glowing with the faint blue light of Devourer energy.
"It's stable," Olli said, tapping his datapad. He was sitting on a park bench that looked like it belonged in a Victorian garden, but was made of floating nanites. "The physics are holding. Gravity is normal. Atmosphere is breathable. But the geography... it's a kaleidoscope."
"Show me," Arden said.
Olli projected a map. It was a mess. The city was no longer a single, coherent metropolis. It was a patchwork quilt of different timelines.
