Elian took his first step out of the dark rift. His body felt light, yet at the same time foreign. He looked at his hands — the skin seemed unchanged, but everything around him was different. The rocky landscape where the barrier had once stood was now an expansive plain with smooth roads and strange, shimmering structures on the horizon.
He moved forward, cautiously stepping on the ground he hadn't felt in a thousand years. Soon, he saw moving metallic carriages without horses, towering buildings reaching for the sky, and people dressed in strange clothing. They all looked at him with curiosity and caution.
Approaching the first person he encountered, Elian asked:
— What year is it?
The person, clearly puzzled, gave him a quick glance and answered:
— 2150.
Elian furrowed his brow. His lips trembled, and inside him flared the realization: it hadn't been a hundred years, but a thousand. Everything he had known was gone. People no longer remembered his name. The world had changed.
He stepped aside, letting the passerby go. A deep breath did little to calm the storm within. I've lost everything… But does that mean I'm free?
In that moment, a memory flashed in his mind — the face of the person who had betrayed him. Was he still alive? The possibility of that pierced his mind, and now the only goal became clear: he needed to uncover the truth.
Clenching his fists, Elian headed deeper into this unfamiliar world, towards a place where, perhaps, the a
nswer awaited him.