“Beep… beep… beep…”
In a dark room, the only sound was the slow beeping of a machine glowing faintly like a giant capsule pill positioned at the center. Small blue and red lights pulsed rhythmically, lighting up and fading in a steady cycle.
“Treatment process complete! Operation will cease in 5… 4… 3… 2… 1!”
Suddenly, a female voice echoed through the room and began counting down. The voice sounded slightly mechanical, clearly pre-programmed.
When the countdown ended, the room gradually lit up, revealing the “giant capsule.” It resembled a hibernation pod from a spaceship in science fiction movies.
With a soft hiss, the capsule lid slowly opened. A thin mist drifted out and gently settled onto the floor.
Inside lay a young man around eighteen or nineteen years old, completely naked. His skin was pale, as if it had not seen sunlight for a very long time.
He had a pleasant face—not extraordinarily handsome. His long brown hair fell to either side. His eyes were tightly shut, his chest rising and falling with faint breaths.
After a while, his breathing quickened, then gradually stabilized.
“Ah!”
The young man suddenly opened his eyes wide and shouted, staring up at the ceiling. The bright lights made him squint, and he raised a hand to shield his eyes. Moments later, he slowly lifted himself, looking around in confusion—then down at his bare body.
“I’m alive! I’m still alive?”
He cried out in joy, running his hands over himself before tearing off the monitoring devices attached to his body. Then he climbed out of the capsule.
Thud!
He collapsed onto the floor, his head striking the ground. Amid the pain, a voice sounded inside his head:
“Be careful. You haven’t moved for a long time. Your muscles need time to readjust.”
“Mom!”
He shouted instinctively, frantically looking around. There was no one there.
“Hello, Young Master Sam. I am not your mother. I am an artificial intelligence program implanted in your brain. The voice you hear is modeled after Chairwoman Adela Barton.”
At the mention of the name Adela Barton, memories flooded back into Sam’s mind.
Adela Barton—his mother—the powerful Chairwoman of the AnD Technology Corporation, a major name in the global weapons industry. Sam was her only son and the sole heir to AnD.
Sam breathed slowly, massaging his muscles and joints. He gripped the capsule and shakily pulled himself to his feet. His legs trembled. After a moment, sensation returned, and he took his first unsteady steps since awakening.
“How long… was I under treatment?”
He asked the AI in his mind. He vaguely remembered it being implanted at the start of the procedure.
“Please wait a moment, Young Master. I am connecting to the system…”
More than a minute passed. Sam shuffled forward impatiently.
“Is there a problem?” he asked anxiously.
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“This… please remain calm…”
“Calm about what?” Sam frowned. Something terrible was coming.
“The data has synchronized. Your treatment duration: one thousand years.”
The AI’s voice remained flat, emotionless.
Sam fell silent, trying to swallow the information.
There was no explosion, no flash of light. Yet everything blurred. His ears rang as if struck. His body felt like it was falling into a black hole, torn apart.
He lay naked on the floor. His left hand trembled. His breath hitched.
“One… what?” His voice was hoarse.
“One thousand years. From August 24, 2025, to August 24, 3025.”
Sam opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that when he opened them, the room would be gone.
It wasn’t.
He let out a distorted laugh.
“This isn’t funny!” he shouted.
Silence answered him.
“The joke’s over!” he yelled louder. “Mom?”
He turned toward the door, waiting.
One second. Two seconds.
No footsteps. No one bursting in with flowers shouting, “Surprise! Congratulations on waking up, Sam!”—the kind of prank he often saw online.
A chill ran through him.
“Alex?”
“Phil?”
No response.
He struggled upright and crawled beside the recovery pod, leaning against it, staring blankly into space.
One thousand years.
He looked down at his hands. They were unchanged—no trace of time.
“So… it’s real?”
His voice was barely audible.
After a brief silence, the AI replied:
“Yes. It is real, Young Master.”
Sam nodded reflexively. He didn’t cry. He didn’t scream. He simply sat there, in a room that belonged to a time that was not his.
Sam sat on the balcony of a luxury café in the city center, slowly sipping premium black coffee. The rich flavor sharpened his mind.
He opened his phone and scrolled through social media. The online world was buzzing about an interstellar object called 3i/atlas approaching Earth. Influencers constantly posted updates.
Some claimed it was merely a wandering celestial body. Others insisted it was an alien spacecraft coming to invade Earth. Even trending scandals and internet celebrities were overshadowed by the news of 3i/atlas.
Sam opened AnD Corporation’s communication app and texted his mother:
“Do you have any information about 3i/atlas?”
After sending the message, he set his phone down and reached for a pack of Chapman cigarettes. He lit one. The sweet vanilla taste touched his lips as he inhaled deeply, exhaling a cloud of smoke. Around him, a few customers were absorbed in their phones.
Ping.
His phone vibrated. A message from “Mom ??” appeared. The profile picture showed a strikingly beautiful woman with snow-white skin and deep black eyes—sharp and perceptive. Her meticulously styled hair and expensive suit radiated authority.
She was Adela Barton, Chairwoman of AnD.
Adela came from the Barton family, a long-established British lineage. The Barton family had built AnD centuries ago, specializing in weapons manufacturing and defense technology for governments worldwide. Under Adela’s leadership, AnD had become one of the most powerful organizations in the world.
“Where are you? There’s an important meeting at 10 regarding 3i/atlas. I want you to attend.”
Sam’s eyes lit up. His blood seemed to boil.
An important meeting about 3i/atlas?
Finally, the day had come.
At eighteen, Sam was not a spoiled rich kid. He had been rigorously trained in knowledge and physical conditioning since childhood. His greatest goal was earning his mother’s recognition.
Yet until now, he had only handled minor tasks within the corporation.
This invitation changed everything.
Sam quickly stood and headed toward the exit. As he rose, the surrounding customers stood as well—they were AnD security personnel assigned to protect him.
He swiftly slid into his Porsche 911 and started the engine. The German masterpiece roared to life. Behind him, two black SUVs followed.
His heart brimmed with excitement.
Ping!
Another message.
“I’ve sent you the briefing materials.”
Attached was a file: “Top Secret – 3i/atlas Dossier.”
The words “Top Secret” fueled his curiosity.
He was driving at 80 km/h.
Unable to resist, Sam tapped the file as it loaded. Governments and space agencies from the United States, Russia, China, and France had been coordinating with AnD regarding this object. It wasn’t an ordinary comet.
The file opened.
Sam’s eyes locked onto the contents. A sharp jolt ran through him. Beneath a crystal-clear image of the object’s surface was a caption:
“Captured by Skyview 01 satellite – AnD Corporation.”
Suddenly—
Honk! Honk! Honk!
Alarms blared behind him from the SUVs.
Sam looked up.
150 km/h.
“Aaaah!”
A container truck was merging into his lane.
He slammed the brakes.
The collision warning system screamed.
Tires screeched violently against asphalt. Smoke rose. Black skid marks stretched across the highway.
“No!”
The men in the SUVs shouted in horror.
Crash!
The Porsche 911 slammed directly into the container truck. An explosion followed. Smoke and debris filled the air as vehicles on the highway braked in panic.
At the moment of impact, Sam saw a blinding light—like the sun exploding before him.
Then
Darkness.
And he knew nothing more.
