Two days before the jump…

Victor’s expansive office, perched atop Chronos Labs, should have been a monument to success and power. Instead, a heavy blanket of despair stifled the air. The panoramic view of the megalopolis sprawling below – a dense hive of skyscrapers, artificial lights, and automated vehicles – offered little comfort. Victor sat hunched over his desk, head cradled in his hands, the glow of the monitor reflecting in his tired eyes. He watched the grainy feed of his team working tirelessly on WTM-01, the World Travel Machine, a project that had consumed his life for decades. Pessimism gnawed at him. Despite countless attempts, they hadn’t managed to successfully transfer a consciousness to another world. The calculations were flawless, checked and rechecked hundreds of times by Victor himself, his AI assistant, and a team of brilliant minds. Yet, something was missing, an elusive variable that continued to elude them. Victor had dedicated his life to science. Quantum physics, relativity, and the possibility of wormholes had captivated him since his university days. He dreamt of visiting distant planets, exploring galaxies beyond human comprehension. Now, at seventy, long past retirement age, he toiled day and night, driven by the relentless pursuit of his life’s work.

A knock echoed through the room.

"Enter," Victor said, his voice weary.

Two of his three lead scientists, Noah and Olivia, entered the office, their faces mirroring his own discouragement. They were brilliant, dedicated, but the weight of repeated failures pressed heavily upon them. Only Victor outranked them on the project.

"Sir," Noah began, his voice heavy with defeat, "we've exhausted every possibility. None of the volunteers have survived the trial." Olivia nodded grimly, her gaze fixed on the floor. "The strain on their consciousness is too great. Physically, they remain unharmed, but their neural activity ceases. They…they effectively die."

Victor frowned, a flicker of frustration in his eyes. "So, it's not a physical strain on the body or the brain?"

"No, sir," Olivia responded, finally meeting his gaze. "We don't fully understand the process, but the physical body remains intact. It's the consciousness that can't withstand the transition. It's as though…" she hesitated, searching for the right words, "…as though their very soul ceases to function."

"Soul?" Victor scoffed, a hint of annoyance in his voice. "We're scientists, Olivia."

"We can't explain it any other way, sir." Noah added, backing Olivia's observation.

A spark ignited in Victor's eyes, a sudden surge of inspiration. "Then we need someone with an indomitable will," he declared, a renewed vigor in his voice. "I know just the man." A nostalgic smile played on his lips. "You two are coming with me. It's been far too long since I last visited him." Victor rose from his chair with a surprising agility for his age. He strode to the coat rack, grabbed his overcoat and hat, and with a swiftness that startled his colleagues, he dialed a number. "Prepare the car. I'm on my way down." He headed for the elevator, leaving Noah and Olivia staring after him, slightly impressed by the seventy-year-old man's unexpected burst of energy. They soon followed.

They descended to the ground floor and exited the building where a sleek, black car bearing the Chronos Labs logo awaited them. The doors hissed open as Victor approached. He slid into the driver's seat while the scientists settled into the back. The car, controlled by an advanced autopilot system, had no steering wheel. Victor simply spoke the address, and the vehicle smoothly glided into the bustling city streets.

The cityscape was a jumble of contrasts. Modern towers of glass and steel loomed over old buildings with peeling paint and rusted signs. Neon signs pulsed in the twilight, promising fleeting pleasures and distractions. The sidewalks teemed with people hurrying through their lives, each absorbed in their own private world. Uniformed citizens mingled with members of various subcultures, their vibrant hairstyles and clothing a defiant expression of individuality. Police robots patrolled the streets, a recent development that had drastically reduced crime rates in the past year. Efficient but ruthless, these automatons showed no mercy, injuring and even killing individuals for minor infractions, stripping law-abiding citizens of their little freedoms with unforgiving zeal. Looming above the urban sprawl were the towers of the corporations, their logos like watchful eyes, monitoring every movement below. Corporations ruled this world, dictating its politics, shaping its culture, controlling technology, information, and the very lives of its inhabitants.

Inside the car, the atmosphere was tense. Noah and Olivia harbored a cautious respect, bordering on apprehension, for Victor and his unpredictable nature. Victor himself fidgeted, his body language betraying his growing anxiety as they journeyed further from the city center.

"Where are we going, sir?" Noah finally asked, his scientific curiosity overriding his reservations.

"To the countryside," Victor replied, the question momentarily easing his tension. "We're going to visit an old friend of mine. Arthur."

"Do you think he can survive the…the 'Jump'?" Olivia inquired, using the team’s slang for the consciousness transfer.

"If anyone can," Victor said, a confident smirk spreading across his face, "it's him."

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Noah and Olivia exchanged glances, intrigued by the mystery surrounding their boss's enigmatic friend.

The landscape began to transform. Skyscrapers gave way to smaller structures, then to open fields and verdant forests. The neon glow of the city faded, replaced by the soft luminescence of the moon filtering through the clouds. The air grew cleaner, fresher, carrying the scent of nature. The road wound through rolling hills and dense woodlands, illuminated only by the car's headlights. Scattered houses and small villages dotted the landscape, islands of tranquility in the otherwise restless world.

As they ventured deeper into the countryside, a sense of calm settled over them. The streets were deserted, devoid of both robots and people. Only retirees and the wealthy remained in these quiet enclaves, free from the relentless demands of the city. The road narrowed, becoming increasingly winding. Victor knew they were close. They turned onto a dirt track and stopped before a high brick wall, a house clearly visible beyond on a hill.

The house, while appearing modest from the outside, exuded an aura of comfort and well-being. It wasn't a simple rustic cottage but a modern dwelling seamlessly integrated into its natural surroundings. The light, polished wood of the frame contrasted with large panoramic windows that radiated a warm, inviting glow. A wide wooden walkway encircled the house, leading to a meticulously maintained garden, a testament to the care and attention lavished upon it. Stepping out of the car, Victor, Noah, and Olivia paused, admiring the beauty of the setting.

Victor pressed the intercom button. Silence. He waited a moment, then tried again.

"How may I help you?" a female voice inquired.

"Hello, this is Victor Albright. I'm here to see Arthur."

"Oh, Mr. Albright!" the voice exclaimed, a hint of surprise and delight in her tone. "Of course, come right in."

A click signaled the release of the gate lock. They followed the neatly paved stone path towards the house. A woman in her forties, dressed in a uniform, greeted them at the entrance. Clearly a housekeeper, she seemed genuinely pleased to receive visitors, a rarity in this secluded location.

"Please, come in," she gestured, ushering them inside. "I'll take your coats. Mr. Steelhart is in the back garden, training."

"Thank you, Miss Evans," Victor replied, recognizing her from previous visits.

Olivia and Noah offered their greetings and followed Victor down the hallway. The interior of the house was warm and inviting, its decor reflecting a deliberate preservation of early 21 st-century style. Stepping out onto the back patio, they saw a stone platform beneath a wooden canopy. In the center, an old man stood in the horse stance of Mabu, legs wide, knees bent, back straight. Arthur, despite his eighty years, was a remarkable sight. Time seemed to have little effect on his physical form. He wasn't simply a fit old man; he was powerfully built, his muscles, though etched with a fine web of wrinkles, clearly spoke of years of rigorous training. His physique resembled that of a warrior. Broad shoulders, strong arms, and powerful legs testified to his exceptional physical strength. Even from behind, his presence was intimidating enough to make the scientists instinctively hesitate.

"Arthur! It's been far too long!" Victor exclaimed, spreading his arms wide.

The old man straightened from his stance, his body a steel coil unwinding with heavty precision. He turned, his face, framed by long grey hair tied back into a harsh ponytail, was a canvas of brutal history. Deep gashes, not wrinkles, crossed his skin, marking him as a survivor of countless battles. A thick, grey beard flowed down to his chest, his eyes burned with a fierce, unwavering fire. The air around him thrummed with an invisible danger.

That's the legendary Arthur Steelhart, the strongest fighter in the world! Noah thought, recognizing the old man. His apprehension quickly transformed into awe.

"Victor?" Arthur's voice heavy with authority. "What brings you here?" - The old man didn't seem delighted at all.

"Aren't you happy to see an old friend? You're even grumpier than I remember," Victor chuckled, his earlier anxieties completely dissipated by the sight of the familiar face.

"Well, since you're here," Arthur sighed, clearly not one for idle chatter, "let's go inside."

They followed him into a small but cozy living room, dominated by a fireplace where a log fire crackled merrily, filling the air with a comforting aroma. Noah and Olivia, accustomed to the sterile environment of their labs, reveled in the rustic charm of their surroundings. Even Arthur's intimidating aura couldn't diminish their appreciation for the tranquil setting. They settled around a small table.

"Let's get straight to the point," Arthur said, his gaze intense.

"Aren't you even going to ask how your old friend is doing?" Victor teased, but seeing Arthur's unwavering stare, he grew serious. "I have a proposition for you, Arthur, or rather, a request…"

He explained the World Travel Machine project, their need for someone with exceptional willpower to survive the consciousness transfer, and his conviction that Arthur possessed the most unyielding will he knew.

Arthur listened intently, his expression thoughtful. "So, this machine could kill me," he finally said, his voice low and steady. "And even if it doesn't, it could send me anywhere, perhaps to the abyss of deep space?"

"I'll be honest with you, Arthur," Victor admitted, "that's a possibility."

"But there's a chance I could end up in another world, a world different from our own?"

"Yes," Victor confirmed, "there's a chance. But we don't know what kind of world it would be. You're our last hope, Arthur." - Victor understood the gravity of his request, the possible death sentence he offered to his friend. But any pang of guilt or rationality was consumed by his ambition.

Arthur held no grudge against Victor for such a request; he understood the sacrifices ambition demanded, a price he himself had paid in full. He pondered for a moment, but his decision didn't take long. His life was nearing its end anyway, and this offered a chance for one last grand adventure. Memories of his youth, the thrill of battles, the excitement of exploration, the sweet taste of victory, surged through him.

"I don't have much time left anyway," Arthur declared, his eyes gleaming with a renewed fire. "If there's a chance I can experience the thrill of adventure again, then I'm in. We leave now. Miss Evans, please bring me my clothes."

"I knew I could count on you!" Victor exclaimed, relief washing over him. "I promise, Arthur, I'll do everything in my power to ensure your safe return."

Arthur changed into his travel clothes, a simple but sturdy outfit suited for any environment. They set off for Chronos Labs in Victor’s car. During the drive, Victor chattered excitedly about WTM-01 and the possibilities that awaited them if they succeeded. Arthur listened patiently, his mind already envisioning the adventures that lay ahead, a second chance at a life he thought was over.