NOVEL WEB Chapter 1: The End and the Beginning
Chapter 1: The End and the Beginning
Devon sprinted through the sterile corridors of the research facility, his heart hammering against his ribs. Every second counted. He had to stop them. He had to stop the experiment.
He was the lead researcher of Project Cronos, an ambitious attempt to create a stable temporal bridge using quantum entanglement. He'd halted testing weeks ago, his calculations screaming of a potential micro-singularity. But the short-sighted fools on the board had overruled him, stripped him of his position, and greenlit the test. The board, in their desire to control time, had dismissed his concerns as overly cautious.
He burst into the testing facility, gasping for breath. Dr. Will, his former colleague, rushed to his side. "Dr. King! What's going on?"
"No time to explain," Devon panting, pushed past him towards the monitoring room. "We have to stop it."
Inside, Dr. Dai Sun, his replacement, was hunched over the monitors. "No! You have to stop the experiment! It'll cause a singularity!" Devon yelled.
Dai Sun didn't even turn. "You're too late, Dr. King. The test has already begun. And there are no anomalies."
Just then, the alarms shrieked to life. On the main screen, the energy readings spiked, far beyond the critical threshold. Devon's worst fears were being realized.
"Evacuate everyone! I'll try to shut it down!" he shouted, just as a shockwave ripped through the facility, slamming him against the wall.
Dazed, he saw Dai Sun slumped on the floor, unconscious.
Ignoring the throbbing pain in his head, Devon scrambled to the control panel and initiated the emergency shutdown. It was a desperate measure. Cutting the energy flow would cause a massive release, an explosion that would likely obliterate the facility and everything within a considerable radius. But it was preferable to a singularity.
As he initiated the sequence, his gaze fell on his watch. It wasn't just any watch. It had a miniature Ohma Zi-O figure attached, a gift from Alex. The boy had been fascinated by Devon's work on 'time stuff' and insisted he wear it for 'protection.' Devon remembered the boy's earnest face, his small hand clutching the toy as he'd said, "This will keep you safe from the time monsters, Dr. King!" A bitter irony now, considering the circumstances. He'd scoffed then, but now, staring at the miniature demon king, a strange feeling washed over him, a sense of… inevitability? As if this moment, this explosion, was somehow predestined. The watch felt warm against his skin, almost vibrating, and he saw a fleeting, distorted reflection of himself in the cracked glass—his own face, but with eyes that burned with an unnatural light. A blinding white light engulfed him, followed by a searing pain, then… nothing.
He was dead. Along with everyone in the facility. The surrounding landscape was now a desolate crater.
{Later…}
Pain. A throbbing, insistent ache behind his eyes. Devon opened them to find himself lying in… a field? His head felt like it had been hit by a hammer. He was certain he'd died. So, how…?
He sat up slowly, wincing at the sharp stab of pain in his head. He took in his surroundings, his eyes scanning the unfamiliar landscape. Then he noticed something… deeply disturbing. He was naked. Utterly, completely naked.
And… younger. Much younger. He stumbled towards a small, still pool of water nearby, his reflection rippling in the gentle breeze. The image staring back was of a man in his mid-twenties, with dark hair and eyes. Impossible. He'd been in his sixties. His face was smooth, his body lean and toned, a stark contrast to the aging physique he remembered. Lead researchers didn't reach that level of expertise in their youth.
Project Cronos. It had to be. The explosion must have somehow reversed his physical age.
"Clothes," he muttered. "I need clothes. And to figure out where…"
A scream cut through the peaceful air, shattering the silence. A man, dressed in rough, animal-skin clothing and brandishing a crude spear, was charging towards him, his face contorted in a mixture of fear and aggression. The sight of a naked man appearing out of nowhere had clearly startled him.
The man looked like something out of a history textbook, a figure from a long-forgotten era. Had he been thrown back in time? Not just his body, but his very being transported to a different point in history?
"Hello there," Devon said, forcing a smile.
"Mannu atti? Minu qabû?" the man yelled, jabbing his spear forward.
Right. English was not a universal language. The man's clothing and demeanor suggested a primitive culture, a world far removed from the sterile labs and modern technology he was accustomed to. He was probably asking, "Who are you?" or "What are you doing here?" Maybe even complimenting his physique, though the look on his face suggested otherwise.
"Mannu atti? Minu qabû?" The man's frown deepened, he pushed his spear forward.
Definitely not compliments, and seriously, look where you are pointing that thing. Devon looked around. There were no other signs of civilization, no other people. This man was likely the only one around for miles. And he was armed. Devon needed clothes, and this man clearly wasn't going to offer them politely.
He had to assume this man was a threat.
Devon sighed. Since diplomacy wasn't an option , violence would do. After all, violence is not the question, it's the answer.
He lunged, throwing a right hook. The tribesman, completely unprepared for the naked man's sudden aggression, barely had time to react. He instinctively thrust his spear forward.
Splurch.
The spear pierced Devon's abdomen. A searing pain shot through him, and he felt the warm stickiness of blood spreading across his skin. This is it, I can't believe I died so fast in my second chance, he thought, bracing for the inevitable. Then, the world flickered, a backward tug pulling at him. He was trapped, a silent observer as the world rewound around him. His body retracing its steps. He saw the peasants arm retract, the spear pulling back, the thrust undoing itself. The wound vanished but the phantom pain of being impaled remained.
He concentrated, trying to feel the flow of time. Gradually, the world began to move again. The blood resumed flowing, and the spear remained embedded.
He focused on rewinding time. The tribesman pulled back his spear, the wound on Devon's abdomen closing as if it had never been.
He restarted time.
Splurch.
The spear pierced him again.
"Damn you, peasant!" Devon groaned.
Peasant 2 - 0 Devon
[Rewind]
This time, Devon anticipated the spear thrust sidestepping with a practiced ease. Years of dodging overly enthusiastic grad students finally paying off. He thought wryly as he landed his punch, sending the tribesman stumbling back. The man retaliated with a wild swing, slashing Devon's torso.
"How am I getting my butt kicked by a primitive?" Devon muttered. "Good thing I can rewind this. Nobody will ever know."
[Rewind]
Round four. Fight!!!
This time, after the punch, Devon delivered his super move, a swift kick to the groin. It was super effective. The tribesman crumpled. Devon moved to take his clothes. The tribesman, fueled by primal fear and the indignity of being stripped by a naked madman, struggled fiercely.
Devon tried a neck chop. When that predictably failed (it only worked in bad action movies), he resorted to a chokehold. Finally, the tribesman went limp.
Flawless Victory.
He quickly dressed in the tribesman's rough clothing and grabbed the crudely fashioned spear. It was surprisingly well-balanced, though the chipped stone point looked more suited for butchering game than engaging in civilized combat. Though, given my current circumstances, 'civilized' seems to be rather… flexible term. He also scooped up a small, leather pouch that lay beside the unconscious man. It clinked softly, promising something other than rocks, at least. Now looking much less conspicuous, he offered a silent apology to his first victim.
"I'll repay you someday. This was a one-time thing. I swear on my mother, I'm a law-abiding citizen," he muttered, safe to say he was an orphan.
In the distance, he saw a large structure, likely a city. He started walking towards it, his mind buzzing with questions. Had the explosion affected anyone else? Where was he? When was he?
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From a Time Traveler's Guide to Avoiding Personal Paradoxes:
"Rule #1: If you've just traveled through time and find yourself inexplicably younger and naked, DO NOT engage in hand-to-hand combat with primitive tribesmen. Trust us on this one. It never ends well. Unless, of course, you're the Demon King. In that case, carry on. You'll probably just rewind it anyway."
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A/N: And we are officially a go people. This story has been in the making since December when I wrote its first chapter, it was my first time writing. If you like it, please give a vote and comment about it. Know that your reviews are appreciated.