He twisted the pen to reveal its pointy yet dull nib,

Braised himself and–

A deep breath—no hesitation.

Stab!

Agony crashed into him, raw and unrelenting. The pen tore into his thigh, nerves ablaze, his grip trembling as blood spilled out, soaking through his pants in thick, searing warmth. His breath hitched, but he refused to scream.

He stood atop the mountain, the world spinning around him, pain anchoring him in place. His body screamed for relief, for mercy, but he clenched his teeth and endured. Because this pain—this suffering—was proof that he was still here. That he still existed.

Did I make a mistake?

I was supposed to wake up the moment the pain hit—but this—!

His vision blurred, the world tilting as if slipping through his grasp. The searing pain didn’t break the illusion. Instead, it dragged him deeper, his consciousness unraveling at the edges.

As the darkness closed in, his lips trembled, forming a desperate whisper—

A name. A plea. A final, fleeting thought—

Before everything faded.

…

The rain fell relentlessly, weighing down the leaves until their tips touched the earth, heavy with shimmering dew.

The sound of engines and vehicle honking echoes.

While towering skyscrapers stood tall, their windows streaked with rain.

Far from the city noise, Inside a dimly lit room, a person sat hunched over a cluttered table.

A flickering table lamp cast uneven light across blueprints and scribbled notes strewn before him. The designs were intricate, Each sketch detailed spacecraft engineered to endure extreme conditions.

Nur who worked for ISRO was designing a ship.

Professor Harold from ISRO notified him to design reasonable enough to carry a crew and return safely.

But he had done much more. He was designing a ship that could withstand forces far beyond what was required.

Because this ship wasn’t for them—it was for him.

His goals were driven by guilt from the past and an unshakable determination to change it.

Leaning back, he closed his eyes and let out a sigh.

When he opened them, his gaze shifted to the scroll beside him, resting on the right side of the table.

It was made of leather, its surface worn and withering with age.

Unrolling it, he traced the strange symbols etched within. The markings glowed faintly, their meaning tangled in mystery—yet, somehow, he understood.

The words, or whatever they were, had already carved themselves into his mind.

He knew exactly what it was.

A contract.

And if he wanted to save Miel, this was the only way.

But its terms were unclear as if the scroll itself had its own will. 

In a changed world he thought he didn't have anything more to be surprised about, but he didn't know what was awaiting him.

He set the scroll aside for now.

His arms crossed on the table he rested his head on it, as he slowly dozed off.

Nur who always dreams of another world completely different from his current, he was able to make that scroll from the dream he saw, although it was not vivid enough, it was as if all these knowledge were his own.

“…”

He woke up after a small nap, as he woke up he felt his throat dried up, almost as if instinctively he called out, Taliah…, Oi! Taliah!, You there?.

…

No one responded, “she's not here?”, his heart suddenly clenched up, was it because of loneliness? he felt as if he had forgotten something.

“…”

Earlier Professor Harold had messaged him to meet him later at the ISRO Base to discuss.

International Space and Resource Organisation or ISRO for short, it was an organization tasked with space exploration and resource management, another one of their missions is to find resources anywhere possible.

Nur grabbed his coat, and a transparent umbrella,

The rain has been slowly calmed down, the sunlight breaking through the clouds. The flowers bright vibrant colours showed cause of the sunlight breaking through the grey clouds, The rain dews that seemed sweet wete reflecting the light.

Later at the ISRO Base.

"The base of operations buzzed with activity, The workers and scientists are in a hurry trying to finish there works, Professor Harold, a gray-haired man with sharp eyes and a wry smile, greeted him with a firm handshake.

“Nur, how’s the work coming along?” he asked, his tone cheerful despite his obvious exhaustion.

Nur glanced past the professor at the spacecraft under construction. Engineers were fine-tuning its engines while others worked on the interior.

Yes, its going well! He replied expressionlessly.

Hahaha!, he laughed loudly patting Nur's shoulders hardly, you haven't finished it yet!, I was expecting much from you. Since your a genius and all, hahaha!

“This sly old fart,” Nu thought, holding back a grin,

“I am doing all the work and he will take all the credit,” his gaze slowly darkening, “well its good for me!, although it was hard to plant this idea in his mind.

The professor’s expression darkened slightly. “You know, we might face another outbreak soon. Even with everyone awakened, survival isn’t guaranteed in this changed world.”

Nur gaze has softened, now he looked at Harold and sympathized with what he said.

Even though the world has changed so much, Nut felt like an outsider.

As Nur left the base, the city stretched before him, glistening under the clearing skies. Rain droplets clung to the leaves, the streets reflecting the soft glow of the emerging sun.

As he looked to his right, His gaze lifted.

As if cutting through the heavens, a tower stood piercing the clouds.

He muttered under his breath “Awakened, Huh!, sigh!

…