Chapter 1:
31st Century Teens
[3060 AD, Golden Time High School, New Gold City]
I barely made it back to my seat before Mirai leaned over, her voice was just loud enough to cut through the background hum of the classroom.
“Detention. Again?” She smirked, pushing her glasses up in that smug, know-it-all way. “What was it this time, barbaric prince?”
I shrugged, trying to look bored, but I could feel everyone’s eyes on me. “Selling snacks,” I muttered. “Protein pods, actually. Just thought people might want, you know, some actual flavor.”
Her eyes widened in mock horror. “Selling… snacks? Imagine being so primitive that you actually have to eat something to taste it.” She grinned, rolling her eyes. “You do know we have taste-sim chips, right? You just pop a nutrient capsule, insert a taste-sim chip into your temple, and boom! You can taste whatever you want. It’s way more efficient than some primitive garbage like those protein pods.”
I leaned back, crossing my arms. “What’s wrong with wanting the real thing once in a while? Maybe I enjoy breaking the rules.”
“More like breaking down civilization,” she whispered, amused. “Barbaric prince strikes again.”
I groaned. “Who even came up with that name?”
“Yours truly.” She placed one hand right over her seemingly E-cup, as if she were swearing an oath. Her face was full of smug satisfaction. “Just look at you. Those sharp, scary eyes, those pointy teeth like those extinct creatures we read about in history class. What were they called again? Oh, yeah—‘animals.’ And let’s not forget the spiky blonde hair. You’re a living reminder of the uncivilized.”
I was about to respond, but the alarm sounded, and the room quieted as Ms. Lorn swept in. She gave me one of those withering looks before addressing the class, flipping on the holo-projector to bring up the day’s lesson: “Human Progression and World Preservation.”
Ms. Lorn started, “Who can tell me how the Great Barrier System was designed?”
A few hands went up, and I tuned out, looking around at the familiar glass panels covering every window, reminding us we were encased in a protective shell, the way every city was now.
Ms. Lorn droned on, “...in the 26th century, after trees were depleted, scientists developed a system to extract oxygen from H₂O, giving us a controlled, safe environment.” She gestured toward the window. “The Great Barrier shields us from the sun’s harmful UV rays, allowing us to live without exposure to pollutants or the primitive threat of uncontrolled nature.”
Primitive. There was that word again. To most people in this class, the world we lived in was a perfected system. Clean. Efficient. Synthetic in all the right ways. But something about it all still felt wrong to me, like the world itself was running on fake air.
“Not only that, but also these great barriers protect every city of humanity from natural imperfections like rain, strom and even any suspicious foreign objects from the space.” Ms Lorn
“Not only do these great barriers protect every city of humanity from the natural imperfections like rain and storms,” Ms. Lorn continued, “but they also shield us from any suspicious foreign objects from space.”
Suddenly, I felt a gentle pull in my consciousness—a 'Thoughtwave'. My mom’s voice echoed in my mind: “Garp, come home. Your grandfather is ill.”
I stood up abruptly, excusing myself from the classroom. Ms. Lorn barely noticed, lost in her lecture.
I stepped outside. The air was filled with the faint hum of the city’s machinery. The glass barrier loomed overhead, glistening like an impenetrable dome. The skyline was dominated by sleek, metallic structures that soared into the sky, their surfaces were a mix of silver and chrome, reflecting the bright city lights. The buildings seemed alive, with small drones flitting between them, busy with their own tasks.
I slipped into my house and noticed my mom in the corner, talking quietly to a group of relatives. Then I spotted my grandfather on his bed, looking frailer than I’d ever seen him. My chest tightened as I walked over.
He motioned me closer, his voice barely a whisper. “Come here, boy. I have something to give you. My secret treasure.”
I tried to hide my skepticism. My grandfather had always been a little different. He always told me stories about the old world, about things like ‘trees’, ‘parks’ and ‘animals.’ Things I’d only seen in holograms. Half the family thought he was senile, the other half found him amusing.
But today, as he held my gaze with something close to desperation, I felt a strange pang in my chest. “You kept something?”
His eyes lit up, and he nodded. “In my drawer. Bottom one. Open it when you’re alone. And remember, this is real. Really real.”
“But why me?”
He smiled gently, “Because , you are just like me. So live a fulfilling life, my grandson. I love you.”
Those were his last words to me.
I waited until everyone else had drifted away. Then, when the house was quiet, I opened the drawer and found a small box of dusty old items. There were photos of our family, an old wrist-watch, some kind of paper note, and at the very bottom— there was an envelope There was something written on it, ‘MT2025’. I opened it and found numerous rectangular chips packed inside it. They looked old yet preserved.
I couldn’t stop myself from smiling a little. Grandpa really had been weird. And now I was holding the proof.
“Let’s see what this so-called ‘treasure’ of yours is all about,” I murmured, pressing one of those chips against my temple. It felt warm as it fit into a little spot on the side of my head.
Suddenly, my vision blurred, then cleared, revealing a wide, green field stretching before me. Kids were running around, laughing and playing. The air smelled fresh, with a scent I never sensed before.
Where am I? This doesn’t look like a hologram—it feels way too real. My gaze fell at my hands. They were small, like a child’s.
I was surrounded by the laughter of children. They raced around me, their voices echoing in the open air as they played on strange metal structures. A seesaw creaked as one child soared into the sky while another dipped to the ground, and the bright sun poured over everything, warming my face in a way I couldn’t remember ever feeling. Is that what people referred as ‘park’ in the twenty-first century?
A little girl held my hand, “What are you waiting for Kyo? Let’s play.” She smiled. My body moved on its own following her, running after her, playing tag with her. I had no control of this body. I felt like a foreign being observing everything, everyone from this “Kyo’s” point of view.
Then, just as quickly as it had begun, the scene flickered, glitching into static, and I was pulled back, to the sterile and silent room, I was before, leaving that world of green and laughter behind.
I put the chip back into its envelope. My heart was racing after such a great experience. I picked up that old, folded paper note from the box. Grandpa’s handwriting was scrawled across it: “I spent my life collecting memories from the year 2025, the year they invented memory-transplant chips. Whenever I used them, I felt alive again. This envelope contains many such memories from different perspectives of different people from the year 2025. I only wish the world today could have a little of what those days had.”
CHAPTER 1 END
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