The Nebula Belt was like a masterpiece painted by a madman: massive asteroids colliding in silent destruction, colorful nebulae wrapped in electric storms, and floating space stations resembling metallic jellyfish. Here, where laws were sold alongside scrap metal, Waleed lived on the fringes of the galaxy.
He ran across the surface of Zabargad-7, his magnetic boots screeching under artificial gravity. The scanner in his hand beeped frantically, pointing to something inside a dark cavern, cracked open by an ancient meteor impact.
"This time, I won't sell to anyone…" he muttered, climbing over amethyst-like crystal formations. "This find will make me richer than the Elven Queen herself!"
Inside the cave, shards of self-illuminating cosmic glass were scattered across the floor. In the corner, a wrecked Elven vessel lay like a dead beast, its outer shell covered in cryptic engravings depicting wars between the stars.
Walid approached cautiously, his flashlight revealing mummified Elven corpses, their faces frozen in expressions of horror. But what made his blood run cold was the temporal chip resting on the control panel— a small metallic piece the size of a human eye, glowing a toxic green.
"What if…" He reached out and touched it.
Pain like lightning shot through his skull. He dropped to his knees, visions flooding his mind.
• A glimpse of the past: A man resembling him, trapped in a secret laboratory, screaming: "The chip will destroy everything!"
• A glimpse of the future: A planet exploding, billions of voices crying out in terror.
"Who are you?!" he gasped, rubbing his eyes. But the visions vanished, leaving behind only a whisper: "You are the last solution."
"Welcome, Waleed, bearer of the Temporal Channel."
Cleopatra appeared as a semi-transparent specter, her golden crown glowing with a light unseen by human eyes.
"Your first mission: Retrieve the Blue Nebula Flower from the Elven Temple in Orinor… before the rise of the third star."
"I'm not a soldier! Take your cursed chip and leave me alone!"
She smiled like someone playing a game: "Time is running out… and so is your memory."
Outside the cave, three Shadow Beings awaited him— smoky figures with ember-like eyes.
"The chip is not yours, hunter!" one of them snarled, its voice distorted like a corrupted machine.
Walid fired his plasma pistol, but the shots passed through the creatures as if they were made of mist. One of them vanished, then reappeared behind him. "You are nothing but Morgana's pawn!"
Suddenly… time froze.
Cleopatra: "A welcome gift… 10 seconds only. Run!"
He sprinted toward his ship as the cave collapsed behind him.
In Timbuktu Station, where illegal technology was traded like fruit, Walid tried to buy explosives from an eccentric dealer.
Dealer (mocking): "You look like a walking corpse! What do you need explosives for? Blowing yourself up?"
Walid (tossing a bag of meteor fragments): "Exactly… but I'll need ten plasma bombs."
Dealer (laughing): "Walking corpses pay well! But be careful… these bombs might erase your memory along with everything else!"
Inside his rusty ship, the navigation screen displayed Orinor, a floating city above a crystalline asteroid. The Elves, proud and mysterious, forbade human entry.
Cleopatra reappeared: "You will distract the guards with an explosion in the black market… while I enter the temple."
"How? You're just a hologram!"
"And a hologram that knows how to steal… just like you stole the chip."
In the temple's central hall, the Blue Nebula Flower glowed like a piece of the sky. But suddenly…
A deafening roar shook the walls. A holographic dragon materialized, its emerald eyes tracking his every move.
"Now what?" Waleed whispered in terror.
A new hologram flickered into existence— Nikola Tesla, sketching a design in the air for a mechanical wing suit made of energy crystals.
"Use the surrounding crystals! The energy here is limitless!"
After an epic battle, Walid severed the flower with a blade forged from the temple's own crystals. A fine blue dust seeped into his skin, and glowing Elven runes etched themselves onto his arm.
Cleopatra: "Your reward: The Ancient Elven Tongue… you will hear even the whispers of the nebulae."
But suddenly… a voice slithered into his mind: "You are nothing but a tool… and I will break you."
In the temple's mirror-like crystal, he saw a reflection that wasn't his own— Queen Morgana, smirking.
Standing on the edge of the asteroid, Walid stared at the violet nebula, his hand trembling. On his palm, a green scar pulsed with strange energy.
Cleopatra (fading away): "This is only the beginning…"
In the background, a shadowy spacecraft sent out a signal: "Target acquired… commence pursuit."