The Last Day of 3099
The world of 3099 was dying.
Even from the towering heights of Neo-Celestia City, Yarin Vale could see the cracks forming in the sky. The city, a sprawling mass of neon lights, sky bridges, and anti-gravity platforms, was buzzing with life, yet the hum of panic lingered beneath the surface. People were fleeing, their faces masks of confusion and fear. Reports streamed in from every corner of the planet: environmental collapses, energy grid failures, and planetary tremors that shook the massive floating habitats above the dying seas.
But Yarin, standing on the edge of the Zenith Tower, felt nothing. Not fear, not surprise, not even the anxiety that gripped billions below. To him, it was almost… boring.
"Another day ending," he muttered, his voice low, almost lost amidst the roaring wind turbines embedded into the tower's spires. His eyes, the color of molten silver, scanned the horizon. Even now, after centuries of training, after mastering both body and mind beyond what the greatest geniuses called possible, he could not shake a strange unease deep in his core. It was subtle, like a whisper carried on a cosmic wind that no one else could hear.
"Yarin!" A sharp voice cut through the haze. It was Mira Solene, her platinum hair glinting in the dim neon light. She ran to him, her tech suit humming with power, holographic interfaces flickering around her. "They've confirmed it. The planetary core is destabilizing faster than predicted. This isn't a gradual collapse — it's catastrophic. The evacuation drones can't handle it all. Millions—"
"I know," Yarin interrupted, though his tone lacked any urgency. He turned away from her, gazing down at the streets below, now a chaotic river of flying vehicles and panicked civilians. "I've already calculated the probability curves, Mira. There's no solution with current resources. No combination of energy redistribution, core stabilization, or temporal damping will save this planet."
Mira blinked. "So… it's over?"
Yarin's silver eyes glimmered like distant stars. "For them, yes. For me… maybe not."
He had already felt it — the pull of something far older than time itself. Something that even the advanced systems of 3099 could not detect. He could not explain it, but a subtle vibration thrummed in his chest, a hum of energy that refused to obey the laws of matter or probability. It was faint, like a heartbeat of the universe calling only to him.
He turned, facing the city one last time. "Prepare the quantum rift capsule," he said softly. "I'm going somewhere else."
---
By the time Mira had scrambled the last commands into the capsule, the sky itself was dying. Flashes of green and purple lightning danced across the fractured atmosphere, splitting the clouds like jagged shards of glass. The ground trembled violently, sending debris from the towers plummeting into the dark abyss below. Sirens screamed across the city, but no one paid attention; death was not polite enough to wait for warnings.
Yarin stepped into the rift capsule. The interior was cramped but filled with cutting-edge tech: a gravitational stabilizer, a temporal flux field, and the neural interface that allowed Yarin to connect directly with the ship's systems. He sat down, closed his eyes, and let his mind merge with the machine.
"All systems nominal," Mira's voice said, barely audible over the catastrophic roars outside. "Quantum rift ready. Coordinates… unknown."
Yarin opened his eyes, their silver glow intensifying. "Unknown," he repeated. "Because I will choose them as I arrive."
A pulse of light filled the capsule. Reality bent, twisted, and screamed as the rift opened. It was not like normal time travel. No temporal tunnels, no smooth transition. This was raw, chaotic, a tearing of existence itself. Colors bled into one another, and space became a fluid of infinite possibilities.
Then, in an instant, he was somewhere else.
---
The world that greeted him was unlike anything from his time. The air was thick, almost alive, humming with energy that felt ancient, primordial. Towering mountains stretched beyond the clouds, forests glowed with luminescent plants, and massive rivers carved silver paths through the land. Yarin landed lightly, his boots sinking slightly into moss-covered earth, and took a deep breath.
He had arrived… not in the past, exactly, but in a place that existed before history had written its first laws.
"Ancient energy… real energy," he murmured. His hands glowed faintly, already interfacing with the natural flow around him. Here, there was no tech, no machinery, no artificial enhancement. Everything was raw. Everything was alive. And Yarin could sense the threads of power weaving through the land like invisible silk.
"Finally," he said, his tone calm, yet tinged with anticipation. "This is where it begins."
Almost immediately, the ground trembled. From the forests emerged creatures he had only seen in myth simulations: massive beasts with scales harder than diamond, eyes that glowed with an inner fire, and wings that could blot out the sun. Their roars echoed across the mountains, shaking the air with vibrations that rattled Yarin's teeth.
"Interesting," he whispered. His body shimmered, nanites in his blood reacting to the new environment. "Let's see how much this ancient world has evolved since 3099."
Without hesitation, he leaped forward. Time slowed for him — reflexes augmented by centuries of training. He struck first, one precise movement cutting through a massive horned beast before it could fully react. Energy flared, the creature's roar echoing as it fell, and Yarin barely flinched.
But it was not just about survival. This world was a puzzle, a test. Every creature, every force he encountered, seemed to exist not only to challenge him but to prepare him for something far greater. He felt it in the air — a presence that dwarfed even the strongest beings from his timeline. Something older than the planet, older than the stars, older than the laws themselves.
And then he heard it.
A voice, ancient and deep, resonating within his mind.
"You have arrived, child of time. You walk where no mortal should tread. You carry the seed of what was and what will be. Do you know the cost?"
Yarin's eyes narrowed. The voice was familiar, yet unknowable. He sensed no malice, yet immense power. "I know cost," he said softly. "And I know potential."
The energy in the forest shifted. Light bent, shadows moved like living things. And from the trees, a figure emerged. A woman, tall, her hair flowing like molten silver, eyes glowing violet. She radiated authority, yet a quiet warmth.
"Who are you?" Yarin asked.
"I am Aria Lunaris," she replied, her voice like wind over a crystal lake. "And you, child of the future, are exactly what this world… and every world beyond… has been waiting for."
Yarin smiled faintly, the corners of his mouth lifting with a mixture of amusement and anticipation. "Then let's see how much you've waited," he said, his hands igniting with energy that shimmered between ancient qi and futuristic power.
The first trial of his new life had begun. And somewhere deep in the threads of reality, the first whisper of the Supreme God stirred, sensing the arrival of his younger self — the one who would either surpass him or be destroyed before his time.
Time, destiny, and existence itself were no longer safe.
This was only the beginning.
The stars themselves trembled as Yarin Vale, child of 3099, took his first step into the ancient world that would shape him into something far beyond gods, far beyond time, far beyond infinity itself.