"Shang, what do you think was the first force released right after the big bang?"
An old man in a white robe stood alone, amidst a haze of red. He marvelled at the sun, whose faint orange dim seemed within reach.
"Is it not a combination of all 7 fundamental forces, Sir?"
A glitching hologram replied back, projected from a small circular device. The old man slowly shook his head, his eyes were captivated by the magnificent red haze in front of him.
"Entropy"
"But, Si-"
"'but entropy is not a force', we all thought that to be the case."
His mutterings persisted as the enormous red star progressively swallowed the reddish-black sphere.
"We were wrong, Shang. The very existence of the universe supports disorder. Chaos is the only eternal constant."
The hologram stood silently in response, his young face deep in comprehension. He stared at his teacher's back with a complicated expression.
"Shang, am I the biggest sinner of mankind?"
The hologram titled his head at the question, his expression one of befuddlement.
"What are you talking about, sir? Without you, we would have been stuck inside the solar system. taking millions of years to just conquer Milkdromeda, only to realize that the universe has long since left us alone."
“Perhaps”
"Sir Alex, You have brought Homo Sapaiens to the real universe. Your contribution to mankind is incomparable."
*Rumble*
The red haze rumbled as a large gust of hot air hit the old man, causing his white robe to flatter silently. The old man was unaffected by his surroundings, looking a bit reminiscent.
"Perhaps we should have stayed here, on earth. It would not have been too bad, just staying inside the Milky Way galaxy."
"Sir, we would have ventured outside the galaxy eventually. Even if you had not discovered it, others would have, eventually."
The old man finally turned towards the hologram, smiling gently.
"You are right. You certainly could have, Shang."
*RUMBLEEE*
A loud noise that seemed to originate from the core reverberated throughout the earth. Soon, the hologram started vibrating slowly as well.
“Sir Alex, did it really have to be like this?”
No answer came for a while.
"Thank you for being with me in my final moments, Shang."
As the rumbling noises got more and more deafening, a relieved voice replied back to him.
"You were always my favorite student."
The smiling Alex Walton got engulfed by the incoming red flares that brought along an insatiable hunger. As Alex's lips moved again for one last time, the hologram finally shut down.
His voice had been overshadowed by the wail of a dying earth.
*****************
*Flap flap*
Other than the faint noise of the silk curtains, the world outside seemed deathly silent, as if holding its breath. Gentle beams from a third-quarter moon cast elongated shadows through the pale-blue curtains, flickering across the large room.
On a large bed, a thin silhouette had curled up. His fingers were clenching tightly on the bedsheet as he writhed in pain. Beads of sweat fell from his forehead, glowing like pearls.
“Hmph”
Long Tian woke up, feeling a viscous liquid in his mouth. He quickly rushed off towards the washroom, almost stumbling with the chair on his way. Soon, a gurgling noise came out of his lips.
“Not again”
He looked at the blood and bits of organs on the sink. A metallic-salty flavour remained on his tastebuds.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
Turning his face upwards, he saw an ashen face stare back, almost scaring him. His lips adorned a mocking smile, seemingly making fun of his own fate.
One of these days, I am going to scare myself to death.
"Heh"
Imagine if that actually happened, though. The headlines in the HuaXia newspapers would go wild.
The useless third son of the Marquis has scared himself to death.
The loser, who failed to awaken after 16 years, has died in a fitting manner.
Well, that would certainly amuse some people.
He stared at the ghostly, pale face in the mirror. Even his full head of brown hair looked lifeless in the pale moonlight. Dragging his sore body towards the table that stood beside the bed, he turned on the lamp.
As the dim light of the yellow lamp illuminated the room, a faint noise of scribbling sounded among the continuous flapping of the wind.
> Thursday, 19th February
>
> HuaXia Calendar Year: 9302
>
> M.F. 23.5
>
> Alex Walton. Is this what you call a protagonist? Well, his end is certainly that of a tragic novel. But why is this specific memory playing so many times? I have already seen it twice this year. As usual, I could not make out what he said during the final stretch. Well, if it was important, he should have said it earlier. What am I supposed to do now? Lip read?
>
> It does not seem like he said more than 4 words. What a troublesome old man!
> When it comes to my past life, I retained most of the memories of my younger years. Yet, after 12, the memories get more and more blurry, even missing large bits and pieces. And I have little to no memories of my life after 20, other than these sporadic dreams.
>
> Among the dozens of dreams, only a few have been repeated. While the others continue for a longer period of time, this one replays the same scene. Over and over again.
He hated these memories. They only served to remind him that he had an even more pitiful life, one that would be better left forgotten. However, his scientific oriented mind always preferred to record everything, and that habit had passed onto this life. He was going to see where these infrequent and largely useless memory fragments take him.
A soft paddling of paws rang.
“Meow”
A small black feline climbed up on him and nestled its face on his lap, making itself comfortable.
Long Tian ran his finger through its glossy, smooth black fur. It purred and looked up at him with its bright, enigmatic eyes, as if questioning whether he was okay.
“Sorry for waking you up, Xiao.”
"Meow, meow, meow.? Meow meow meow meow"
It whined in response, purring with an animated face.
Yep, I am receiving a scolding from a cat. Well, this is not going to be the last time, though.
After a few minutes of what felt like an elder scolding his junior, Xiao finally seemed to be satisfied, going back to sleep on his laps. Long Tian continued to scribble in the dim light.
.
*Knock knock knock*
“Young master, you are late for breakfast again.”
A sweet voice rang from far behind, waking him up from his sleep. As soon as he opened his eyes, a piercing yellow light flooded through his eyelids, jolting him awake.
Ow
He looked at the open notebook in front of him, it seemed like he had fallen asleep while writing.
A young maid in a black outfit was standing behind the door. A combination of a chubby oval face, slanted eyebrows, and brown, limpid eyes gave her the grace of gentle beauty. Her facial expression was full of complain as she stared with a hint of anger.
Worried that he was going to get his second scolding early in the morning, he explained in a hurry.
“Sorry, MeiMei, I overslept again. I will join in a bit.”
“Young master, you already missed breakfast three times this week. Please don’t forget to have breakfast today.”
She rebuked him gently.
“En”
Long Tian stared at the densely scripted words. He started having these dreams at the age of 10. And since the last 6 years, he has seen many of these dream episodes that he refers to as 'memory fragments'.
To maintain secrecy, he chose to write in Mandarin, a lost ancient language from Earth. His grandfather had forced him to learn this language at an early age. Although back then he complained a lot, he ended up really liking this language.
Nobody could decode it, due to the majority of the culture getting lost in the river of time.Thus, it was an excellent choice for writing journals!
He could whine about how he felt like smashing a beaker on that idiot co-worker's head, how that date only wasted his valuable time, or how the universe has been mistreating him, without ever getting caught by others!
The continent of Raoqen does not share any languages of similar origin. Which means, logically, it was impossible to decode. But it's not like anyone would go through all the trouble to decode his diary anyway.
Among the noble and immortal circle of HuaXia, some would call him a shame to the Long clan, while others called him a disgrace to Marquis Long. Plus, among his strange hobbies, writing journals in another language is the least quirky. He hid his journal among the neatly ordered black notebooks.
This marks the ninth memory fragment of the year, barely into the first quarter.
Long Tian rose to his feet, fixing his gaze on the mirror on the other side.
A very finely chiseled face stared back at him, marked by it's defined cheekbones and strong jawline. His pale visage had mostly recovered, bringing a hint of colour to his otherwise sanguine face.
However, he still looked a bit impoverished, with his slim, undefined build. Memory fragments of his past life had taken a toll on his physique, making him look like a anemic with blood insufficiency. While he tries to replenish the loss of blood and organs on a regular basis, his body struggles to digest and make up for the damage.
Thankfully, he was from the white dragon clan and shared their inherent healing factor. Otherwise, he certainly would have already met the grim reaper due to anemia.
He gazed towards the large wall clock hanging on the opposite wall again.
*tick tock*
With each tick of the clock, time slipped through his fingers like grains of sand.
The next awakening ceremony is in 10 months. If I am unable to awaken this year, I might not see the light of next year, anyway.
He got ready and stepped into the large elevator.
*Whirr*
Please state your desired floor number
A gentle white light whirred on the ceiling, rotating in a clockwise manner. A feminine, sweet mechanical voice sounded from it as he entered through the door. On the meticulous silver walls, patterns of dragon scales were itched elegantly.
“Floor seven”