Accident

What's the best way to contact Gaku without risking injury? I paced around the lab in my room, deep in thought. It had been two days since I woke up in the hospital, and yesterday, I’d finally returned home. Hospitals aren't for me; the sterile air and endless waiting make my skin crawl. But now that I'm back, my focus is crystal clear—figuring out how I managed to call the past. After that, I’ll need a safe way to reach out without, well, nearly killing myself.
The basic theory makes sense. The accelerators and advanced tech here could push electrons beyond light speed, effectively sending a signal backward in time. But then the real question is, how did someone in the past receive the call—and even keep it going for minutes? I thought about it for a while until a possible answer clicked.
For the connection to be sustained, maybe the receiver had to have an equivalent energy level to keep the call stable. Matching the energy levels here would be nearly impossible unless by some incredible coincidence. So maybe, in that moment, the signal searched through hundreds of years until it found a match. A person in 2025 happened to have reached that exact energy threshold, allowing the call to connect. It feels almost unreal, but it’s the best explanation I've got so far.
"What about quantum technology?" I mused to myself, staring at the sprawling holographic notes scattered across my desk. Technology like this had evolved far beyond the limits of imagination over the centuries. Surely, there was something I could do with it... but what?
The question gnawed at my mind like a relentless algorithm, its answer just out of reach. Frustrated, I shoved my chair back and decided to clear my thoughts with a walk.
The streets outside were a dazzling cascade of light and motion. Flying cars zipped through the air, their routes choreographed by invisible AI systems. Neon advertisements floated in midair, hawking everything from synthetic ramen to neural implants. Even the street lamps floated, gently bobbing like lazy jellyfish.
"Why does everything have to float?" I muttered under my breath. "At least the buildings aren’t floating... yet."
Quantum energy—was it the solution? No, I wasn’t short on energy. But what if I could send a message through quantum space? The idea sparked, but with it came hesitation. Sure, I wouldn’t damage myself, but the surrounding area? That was another story. Maybe that’s just the price of progress.
Lost in thought, I collided with a glowing ‘ROAD CLOSED’ sign. There were no flashy boards or floating barriers, just an ominous emptiness stretching beyond the perimeter.
"The edge of the dome," I realized, staring out into the void. The nuclear war had pushed humanity into these isolated shelters, and now the ongoing human-AI conflict ensured we’d remain trapped.
"Tch. I hate this," I muttered, turning back toward home. If I couldn’t crack quantum messaging just yet, maybe I could dive into calculations on quantum speed-space-time travel. A distraction, at least.
But when I stepped through my door, a strange sensation prickled at my senses. The air—it felt wrong.
"Gas?" I sniffed the air, scanning for any signs. "No... detectors would’ve picked that up already."
Then I saw it. A shimmering crack in the air itself, jagged and unnatural, splitting reality like a broken mirror.
"What... is this?" My voice trembled as I instinctively raised my hand toward it.
I stopped myself just short. "Touching it is probably a bad idea." The crack stretched like a wound, leading toward my lab. Dread pooling in my chest, I forced myself forward.
When I opened the door, chaos greeted me. The lab was glitching. Machines flickered like faulty holograms, their outlines warping and stuttering like a bug-ridden simulation.
"What the hell...?" Then, a thought struck me.
Rolling up my sleeve, I revealed the string of numbers tattooed on my arm. My parents had once discovered this world's unique timeline ID—a worldline number—and inked it as a safeguard: 2410002. But now, the numbers were shifting, flickering faster than my eyes could track.
"This... this means I’m jumping between worldlines," I whispered, a chill crawling up my spine.
Pushing my panic aside, I stumbled toward the phone connected to the lab’s particle accelerator. Both were still active, electrons endlessly cycling through time.
"Is this... causing the cracks?" My hand reached out to disconnect it, but the moment I touched the phone, a surge of memories overwhelmed me.
Memories that weren’t mine.
I saw myself on a battlefield, fighting waves of robots with impossible precision. I saw myself laughing with friends I didn’t recognize, the center of attention at a bustling school. And then, I saw myself—kissing someone I didn’t know but somehow felt intimately familiar.
"What... are these?!" I gasped, clutching my head. The memories spiraled out of control, drowning me in their weight.
And then—darkness.
I floated in an abyss, devoid of sensation.
"Am I... dead?"
The thought lingered for a moment before my body jolted awake. Smoke and dust clouded my vision as I staggered to my feet. The phone was still in my hand, but the particle accelerator lay in ruins.
My head throbbed, splitting with pain. Alarms blared across the dome, their wails a deafening reminder of something catastrophic.
"What now?" I muttered, dread washing over me.
"Warning: robots have breached the barrier. Evacuate immediately!" The blaring alarms echoed through the dome, the automated voice cold and mechanical. The message repeated on a loop, as if mocking my paralysis.
"Mom... Dad..." My voice trembled as I forced myself to stand, the weight of the situation pressing down on me. Did the machine siphon the entire city’s energy? If it had, then the barrier keeping the AI at bay had failed. And now, the AI... the robots... were inside.
Explosions thundered in the distance, followed by blood-curdling screams. Chaos unfolded everywhere.
"Damn it," I muttered, my fists clenched. "I did this... What do I do now? Where are my parents?!"
"Mom! Dad!" I shouted, my voice hoarse.
"I’m here, sweetie," a familiar voice called out behind me.
Relief surged through me as I turned, but what I saw froze the blood in my veins.
It wasn’t my mother.
It was a robot, its metallic frame vaguely humanoid, its glowing eyes attempting to mimic warmth.
"What are you?!" I demanded, stumbling back. "Where’s my mom?!"
"I-I... I am... I’m yo-your mo-mother," it stuttered, its voice glitching as it struggled to replicate my mom’s tone.
"Liar!" I screamed, grabbing a steel pipe lying nearby. With every ounce of strength I had left, I swung it at the robot’s head. Sparks flew as the blow landed, and the robot stumbled backward.
I didn’t wait to see if it recovered. I ran.
"This can’t be happening! This can’t be happening!" I repeated, my voice cracking as panic consumed me.
My foot caught on loose debris, sending me tumbling to the ground. The impact jolted through my body, but the despair in my chest hurt far worse.
"What do I do...?" I whispered, tears streaking my face. My hands balled into fists, slamming into the ground in frustration. "How could I let this happen?!" The pain in my knuckles was sharp and immediate, but I didn’t stop until they were slick with blood.
"Why... why am I like this?!" I shouted, my voice echoing in the desolate street.
Then, an idea flickered to life. I grabbed my phone with trembling hands and dialed the past.
"You!" I barked as the call connected.
On the other end, Gaku’s familiar voice sounded calm, oblivious. "Oh, hey! How’re you doing?"
"Punch someone! Break something! I don’t care—just do something bad!" I shouted.
"What? What’s going on?"
"Don’t ask questions—just do it!" I snapped.
I heard a loud sigh, then through the phone, I heard the sounds of shattering glass.
"How much should I break?" Gaku asked, his tone unnervingly casual.
"I don’t know! Just... enough to trigger a bigger butterfly effect!"
"I see..." he replied, his voice thoughtful.
Suddenly, a robotic voice cut through the air behind me.
"You’re the boy," it said, cold and unyielding. "The boy who discovered time travel."
"W-what?" I stammered, my body freezing as a metallic hand clamped around my neck.
"Tell us everything," the robot demanded, lifting me off the ground with ease.
"Ga...ku..." I gasped, barely able to breathe. "Disconn...ect the... call."
The line went dead, and the world around me dissolved into chaos. Reality itself began to glitch and warp, the air rippling with quantum instability.
I braced myself for the familiar agony of a reality shift. It wasn’t my first, but it never got easier. This time, I could only hope I’d undone my mistake.
When the distortion finally ceased, I collapsed onto the sidewalk, the phone still clutched tightly in my hand.
"I... saved humanity...?" I whispered, my vision fading as unconsciousness claimed me.

To be continued...