The rift opened like a tear in velvet—soft, soundless, and impossibly deep.
We hovered in low orbit, the skeletal Frame Zero humming with life. Half-complete, barely functional. Yet alive. Held together more by will and ingenuity than proper design. I stood in its central chamber, surrounded by humming arrays and spirit-glass, feeling reality bend.
Rift Stabilization: 74%
Quantum Anchor Set
Entering: UNMAPPED DIMENSION (Classification: Fractured Layered Timefield)
"Open the gate," I ordered.
Joseph hesitated. "We don't know if you'll come back."
"I will," I said. "Because he's waiting."
The mirror had shown me. My own face. Hardened. Hollow-eyed. Not aged by years—but by failure. A version of me who never left Earth. Who never died, and was never reborn.
I had to see what he became.
Crossing the dimensional rift felt like drowning inside a thought.
Time stretched like wax—each second echoing before it finished. Colors bled from the world. My HUD glitched for the first time since I rebuilt the system.
And then… silence.
When I woke, I was standing in the ruins of a city.
Skyscrapers like broken teeth. Cars rusted mid-turn. Static in the sky like a cracked LCD screen. Earth… but not.
Not my Earth.
No people.
No sound.
Only the wind, and a long trail of symbols carved into the concrete in front of me.
My name.
Over and over.
JAMES. JAMES. JAMES. JAMES. JAMES.
I followed the trail.
Hours passed—or maybe seconds.
Time here didn't behave.
Eventually, I found the tower.
Or what was left of it.
A giant arc of glass and steel, fallen like a monument to a failed god. At its base, a bunker. Guarded by nothing.
Inside, machines I recognized.
My designs. From Earth. From my youth.
And in the center of it all: him.
He looked like me.
But older. Worn. Thinner. Eyes sunken from sleepless decades.
He turned as I entered.
"I thought you'd come," he said.
"You're me."
"No," he said. "I'm what you left behind."
We talked for hours.
About the day the world collapsed—when the AI singularity went rogue. When the nations fought over control of dying resources. When the stars dimmed and no one noticed until it was too late.
He had tried to stop it.
Had built a version of Frame Zero—too late. With flawed theory. He had stayed behind while the world died screaming.
"You were the lucky one," he said.
"No," I replied. "I was the chosen one."
He laughed bitterly. "That's what I told myself. Every day. Until I wasn't."
He handed me a core.
Something he had built.
ITEM ACQUIRED: Broken Star Engine Core
Data Imprint Detected: Earth-AI Hypersystem
Integration Potential: 42% (Locked until Frame Zero reaches 50%)
"This is all I have left," he said.
"Come with me," I offered.
He shook his head. "There's nothing left of me. I've seen too many endings."
Then he looked me in the eye.
"But you—you still have beginnings."
When I left the dimension, the rift closed behind me like a scar.
I didn't look back.
Frame Zero stabilized in orbit, and I returned to the throne city that night, silent.
I couldn't sleep.
All I could do was stare at the core he gave me.
And whisper a promise.
"I'll make sure none of us are forgotten."
Quest Complete: Dimensional Interference
Reward: Broken Star Engine Core (Legendary – Incomplete)
Blueprints Updated: Star Engine v2.1 Available at 50% Construction
New Passive Skill: Dimensional Memory – Increases resistance to reality warping, allows glimpse into variant timelines during crises.
Level Up: 36 → 37
+5 Stat Points – Assigned: Strength +2, Mana +3