Bygone - I

“The moon was destroyed during the 8th Great Conflict,” he begins, his gaze distant. “It wasn’t a war confined to the Earth’s surface. By then, humanity has expanded to the stars, but even with all that space, it isn’t enough. The war rages for resources, power, and survival. Factions fight each other tooth and nail, and as desperation grows, lines are crossed.”

I glance at my bracelet, swiping through its holographic interface as he speaks. It doesn’t take long to find a record of the 8th Great Conflict. The information is sparse, filled with sanitized summaries and vague mentions of destruction. But the old man’s story has already gone further than any of the records.

“One of the factions,” he continues, “was losing the war. Badly. Out of options, they turn to a weapon they are still developing—a weapon they call the Helioclast Engine. It wasn’t finished, and their scientists warned against using it. But desperation doesn’t listen to warnings.”

I frown at the mention of the weapon, my bracelet displaying a brief entry on it. The description is dry and technical: Gravitational destabilization device. Intended for precision strikes on orbital targets. No mention of the moon, no mention of the chaos it causes.

“What was it supposed to do?” I ask, still scrolling through the hologram.

“The Helioclast Engine was designed to disrupt gravitational fields and collapse celestial structures,” he explains. “They meant to use it on a heavily fortified orbital station controlled by their enemies. But the weapon wasn’t ready. When they fired it, they couldn’t control it. Instead of hitting the station, it struck the moon.”

I pause, my hand hovering over the bracelet’s interface.

“What happens then?” I ask, though I already have a sinking feeling I know the answer.

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The old man’s voice grows heavier. “The moon shattered. Pieces of it were flung into space, while massive fragments rained down on Earth, causing tsunamis, earthquakes, and firestorms. The skies darkened with debris, blocking out the sun for years. The tides stopped, ecosystems collapsed, and billions perished. The faction that fired the weapon sealed their own fate—they were hunted down and eradicated for what they’d done.”

The hologram on my bracelet flickers as I skim through more entries, piecing together the sanitized, fragmented details. The destruction of the moon isn’t just a historical tragedy—it’s an extinction-level event that humanity barely survives.

I close the interface with a flick of my wrist and turn to the old man. “Alright, I get it. The moon was destroyed, it caused chaos, and humanity barely pulled through. But…” I pause, narrowing my eyes at him. “How is any of this related to me?”

The old man chuckles as he sees my skeptical expression. “Impatient, aren’t you?” he teases, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Kids these days. Always in a rush. Can’t even listen to a story without getting all fidgety.”

I frown, crossing my arms. “I’m not fidgety! I’m just trying to figure out why you’re telling me about something that’s been dead for ages!”

He smirks, tilting his head as if studying me. “Ah, so you admit it—you’re impatient. That’s the first step to growth.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re entertaining,” he shoots back with a grin. “Now that you know about the moon and its fate, I can start explaining more.”

I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. This guy is testing my patience, but the curiosity is still gnawing at me.

He folds his arms and begins pacing, his tone shifting to something more serious. “The moon isn’t just a lifeless rock. It reflects the light of the sun, illuminating the Earth at night. Depending on the time of the month, the amount of its surface visible from Earth changes. Slowly, it grows from a sliver of light into a full circle, the night of Purnima.”

He pauses, glancing at me. “You don’t know what that is, do you?”

I furrow my brow, trying to place the word. “Purnima?” I repeat, shaking my head. “Never heard of it.”

He sighs dramatically, like a teacher disappointed by his student. “Of course you haven’t. It’s the night of the full moon. The brightest, most complete phase of the lunar cycle.”

“And what’s the opposite of that?” I ask, not sure if I’m humoring him or genuinely curious.

His grin returns, as if pleased by my question. “Amavasya. The new moon. A night when the moon is completely hidden from sight, leaving the world in darkness. Purnima and Amavasya come 15 days apart from each other.”

I stare at him, trying to wrap my head around it. The words sound strange and unfamiliar, like relics of a language no one speaks anymore. “So…” I hesitate. “The moon basically acts like some giant mirror for the sun?”

He nods. “Precisely. And without it, the nights have never been the same.”

I glance at the sky, where the pale morning light is now giving way to the day.

“Alright, I get it. The moon lit up the night, it had these phases, and it’s all very poetic. But…” I gesture impatiently. “What’s the point of all this? Why are you telling me this stuff?”