Lin Yi's consciousness slowly returned, but when he opened his eyes, he wasn't in his familiar bedroom.
A barren wasteland stretched before him.
The sky was a dull, lifeless gray. The air carried a faint, decaying scent. In the distance, ruined skyscrapers loomed, their twisted steel frames barely holding up the remains of once-glorious buildings.
He staggered slightly, his body weak and exhausted. His clothes—tattered, worn, and filthy—looked as if he had been wandering in this wasteland for years.
With shaky steps, he moved forward, until something rusted and broken near his feet caught his eye.
A weathered welcome sign, covered in cracks and overgrown with moss.
"Welcome to the Third District of the Eastern Federation."
Lin Yi's breath caught.
Third District?
He was from the Seventh District, and as far as he knew, there was no reason he should suddenly be here.
Dropping to a knee, he brushed some dirt off the sign. The faded letters, the rust, the cracks—this thing had been here for decades.
His heart pounded.
Then, a sharp sting shot through his wrist.
He looked down.
A damaged wristband—one that resembled a futuristic smartwatch—was wrapped around his arm.
The screen flickered red, displaying a critical warning message:
"Warning: Power at critical levels. System failure imminent."
Lin Yi's stomach clenched.
These wristbands used a small fusion battery designed to last indefinitely. The only way it could be running out of power…
Was if decades had passed.
He hesitated, then tapped the screen.
The interface flickered. A date appeared.
New Era Calendar: Year 670, July 21st.
Lin Yi's mind went blank.
That couldn't be right.
It was Year 625 just yesterday.
He remembered clearly—last night, he had just played games with Wang Yanfei and his little sister. He had texted his girlfriend goodnight.
And now… 45 years had passed?
"No… that's impossible." His voice came out as a hoarse whisper.
His fingers trembled. His breath quickened.
Desperate, he swiped through the watch's settings. Almost all functions were disabled—except for one:
[LOG FILES]
The icon flashed. Waiting.
He hesitated, then tapped it.
A single message appeared:
"Want to know the truth? Check your stomach."
Lin Yi froze.
What?
His gaze dropped to his abdomen.
Even through his ragged clothes, he could feel something off. Like there was a hidden compartment inside the fabric, something stitched into the lining.
His pulse spiked.
Ripping open the ruined layers, his hands touched something thin and firm.
A book.
Small, yellowed with age, its edges frayed. Aged ink stained the fragile pages.
Lin Yi's hands trembled as he opened it to the first page.
"Welcome, 45 years ago... me."
His mind imploded.
Lin Yi froze, staring at the handwriting on the page. His own handwriting.
His breathing grew shallow.
This book… was left behind by his future self.
Swallowing hard, he turned the page.
The next entry was written with cold precision:
"If you're reading this, then we are out of time. The world has already been destroyed. The root cause? 45 years ago.
I can't tell you everything. I can't give you all the answers. You have to find them yourself."
Lin Yi's grip on the book tightened.
45 years ago…? That's now.
He turned another page.
"You have exactly two hours in this place.
You can do anything. Go anywhere. But once the time is up, you will be forcibly returned.
These two hours… are your stage.
Find the truth. Change the future.
This is your only chance."
At the bottom of the page, the final words were messy, shaky, as if written by a trembling hand:
"If you fail… everything will be lost."
Lin Yi slowly closed the book, his mind racing.
His wristband's screen flickered again—
A timer appeared.
1:59:55
1:59:54
1:59:53
Two hours.
That was all he had.
He clenched his fists.
"Then I better not waste it."
The Search for the Truth
Lin Yi stumbled through the ruins. His body felt weak, every step took effort, but his mind was focused.
He had 40 minutes left—and he still had no answers.
"Think, damn it!"
Then, out of nowhere—a memory.
His father's voice, from years ago.
"Lin Yi, if one day you wake up and the world is gone…"
"Find the Doomsday Ark."
"The what?" Young Lin Yi had blinked up at his father, confused.
"A black box. A record of everything that happened. Every major city has one. Usually hidden inside the Guardian Corps headquarters. In the commander's office, behind the insignia on the wall."
Lin Yi's heart slammed against his chest.
The Guardian Corps.
He needed to find their abandoned headquarters.
And fast.
By the time Lin Yi found the headquarters, his timer had dropped below 20 minutes.
The once-grand entrance was collapsed, forcing him to squeeze through debris into the dimly lit interior.
Dust and decay filled the air. Cracked floors, overturned desks, long-dead electronic panels.
And in the corner of the room—a skeleton.
Lin Yi stopped cold.
The corpse was wearing a military uniform. Its right hand still clutched a rusted handgun, the barrel pressed against its skull.
It was clear—this person had chosen to die rather than be taken.
A mix of dread and respect surged in Lin Yi's chest.
No time to hesitate.
He scanned the room—then saw it.
A metal insignia, still hanging on the cracked wall.
He rushed forward, hands running along its edges—a faint click.
Something shifted.
A hidden compartment slid open, revealing a small black device.
Lin Yi barely managed to grab it before the screen lit up—
"Identity confirmed: Lin Yi."
A holographic projection flashed to life.
And then—a name.
A name that sent a chill through Lin Yi's soul.
"Event Record: Total War Between the Eastern Federation and the Western Corporate States."
"Year 650: Western States initiate cyberwarfare, infecting and crippling Eastern Intelligence Systems. Eastern defenses collapse."
"Year 652: Electromagnetic weapons deployed. Eastern Federation's AI core obliterated. Automated defense forces rendered useless. Western military forces invade."
The screen shifted.
A new file name.
"Year 654: The Last Battle—Wang Yanfei."
Lin Yi's stomach dropped.
The projection flickered—revealing a familiar figure.
A man. Older. Hardened. His body radiating a soft, jade-colored glow.
His best friend.
Wang Yanfei.
But this Wang Yanfei wasn't smiling.
He was alone—facing an entire army.
And the final entry—
"At the last moment, Wang Yanfei transformed into a Titan of Jade, standing over a hundred meters tall. He endured three direct nuclear strikes before succumbing."
"With his death, all remaining hope for the Eastern Federation was lost."
Lin Yi's hands went numb.
"What… the hell…?"