The morning after the party, I found Evelyn already awake, waiting for me in a quiet, focused way that felt strangely intense. She held a sleek, silver device—a thin, metallic tablet that glimmered in the morning light.
She was holding a diary in her hand and a strange device was placed before her. "I need you to find you", she told with a voice that reflects the sorrow within her. "I mean your future-self Ryan. I have lost him in this infinte threads of timeline, and you are my final and only hope."
Evelyn stood before that strange device, the hum of its energy resonating through the air. Evelyn's fingers danced over the holographic controls with practiced precision, each movement stirring the ethereal glow of infinite possibilities around us. The threads of countless universes shimmered in the room, vast and unknowable, yet undeniably real.
She turned toward me, her expression serious but tinged with something softer—hope, perhaps? In her hand was a worn, leather-bound diary. Its edges were singed, and the pages, yellowed with age, carried a weight that seemed almost tangible.
"This is where he left off," she said softly, holding it out to me.
I hesitated before taking it. The leather felt rough under my fingertips, and as I opened the diary, the scent of aged paper hit me, stirring something deep inside. My breath caught as I looked at the pages. Equations, sketches, notes—all of it painfully familiar.
"It's his handwriting," I murmured, almost to myself. But I knew better. It wasn't just his. It was mine. Every line, every symbol reflected the way my mind worked, the patterns and thought processes only I would use.
"Yes," Evelyn replied, her voice carrying a strange mix of relief and urgency. "I've tried to decode it, but there's something in the way he writes… something only you would understand."
I traced my finger over one of the pages, my pulse quickening as recognition set in. "Coordinates," I said, almost in disbelief. The notations clicked into place in my mind like pieces of a puzzle. It was instinctive—like my future self had left these breadcrumbs knowing I'd pick up the trail.
Evelyn stepped closer, her presence grounding me in the moment. Her gaze was steady, yet there was a flicker of desperation behind her words. "Do you see why I need you?" she asked quietly. "I can traverse the multiverse, but it's endless. Without specific coordinates, it's like searching for a grain of sand in an infinite desert. He left this for you, Ryan. Not me. You."
I looked up at her, doubt flickering in the back of my mind. Why me? What made me capable of solving this? But as I met her eyes, the sincerity and urgency in them were undeniable. Whatever this was, it was bigger than either of us.
We drove in silence, the quiet hum of the electric car filling the space between us. Outside, the world blurred past—a strange mix of twilight hues and unfamiliar structures. The coordinates had brought us here, to this isolated and unsettlingly quiet region.
Evelyn finally broke the silence. "You've been quiet. Are you nervous?"
I glanced at her and shrugged slightly. "Just… processing."
She gave me a faint smile, reaching into a small cooler at her feet. "That's fair. Here," she said, pulling out a neatly packed container. "I thought you might be hungry."
I raised an eyebrow. "You cooked?"
She chuckled softly, the sound catching me off guard. It was… pleasant. "I do have some domestic skills, you know. Try it."
I hesitated before taking the container. As I opened it, the warm, rich aroma of spices filled the car. I sampled a bite, and to my surprise, it was good—really good. My face must have given me away because she perked up instantly.
"It's… good," I admitted.
Her face lit up with a mix of excitement and relief, almost childlike in its sincerity. "Really? I was worried it might not be to your taste. I remember you used to prefer—" She cut herself off abruptly, her expression shifting. For a moment, something dark flickered in her eyes, like she'd brushed against a memory too painful to finish. "Well, I just hoped you'd like it."
I glanced at her, taking in the way she watched me so intently, like my approval meant everything. Her eyes held something I hadn't felt directed at me in years—a tenderness, a kind of hope that felt disarming. For a moment, the chaos of our journey seemed to fade, replaced by something quieter, more personal.
I cleared my throat, breaking the moment before it could settle too deeply. "It's good. Thanks."
Evelyn smiled, her gaze lingering on me for a second longer before she started the car again. "We should keep moving."
The coordinates led us to a desolate clearing. At the center of it stood a small, crumbling house, weathered as though time itself had abandoned it.
Inside, the air was thick with dust, and every step stirred up the musty smell of neglect. Papers littered the floor, their edges curled and yellowed with age. Two old computers sat on a rusted desk, their monitors dark and covered in a fine layer of grime. Evelyn's flashlight swept across the room, illuminating faded notes pinned to the walls—intricate diagrams, mathematical models, and cryptic annotations.
"This was his workspace," she murmured, her voice reverent, almost like she was standing in a shrine.
I moved toward a heavy metal locker in the corner, its presence oddly imposing. As I approached, a biometric scanner flickered to life. My brow furrowed. "Why would he need my biometrics?" I asked, more to myself than to Evelyn.
She watched me closely, her gaze steady. "Because he knew only you could finish what he started."
I hesitated, the weight of her words pressing against me, before placing my hand on the scanner. A soft beep followed, then a metallic click as the locker door released. Inside, there was a small hard drive and a worn notebook, its leather cover scuffed from years of handling.
Evelyn reached for the hard drive, handling it as if it were some sacred artifact. She passed it to me, and I connected it to one of the computers on the desk. The screen flickered to life, revealing rows of files, the glowing text cutting through the dim, dusty room.
We scrolled through the files in silence until my eyes caught a particular folder name: "Genesis_Coordinates."
I clicked it open, and there it was—a single set of coordinates. My chest tightened. The first multiversal destination.
Evelyn's breath hitched audibly beside me. "This is it. This is where we start."
I turned to her, the enormity of the moment settling in my gut like a stone. "Let's hope it's the right place."
She nodded, her expression hardening into determination. "It has to be."
She opened her device and put the coordinates in them, which opened a portal in front of us. "Care to join me", she held out her hand towards me as a sign of inviting me to the place which is our next destination. I followed her with a weird hesitation lingering in my heart.