THE MAN WHO SHOULDN'T EXIST
855 Words
THE BOY WHO REMEMBERED TOMORROW
Episode 5: The Man Who Should Not Exist
For a long time, neither Ethan nor Lucian spoke.
The forest had returned to normal.
Birds flew from tree to tree.
The wind rustled through the leaves.
Yet the shattered remains of the ancient monument lay scattered across the ground, proof that what had happened was real.
Ethan knelt and picked up a fragment of black stone.
The moment his fingers touched it, a sharp pain shot through his arm.
Visions flooded his mind.
He saw a city larger than any he had ever known.
Its towers stretched into the clouds, glowing with blue light.
People walked through the streets wearing clothes unlike anything from his time.
Above them floated enormous rings of silver that circled the sky like artificial moons.
Then the city began to crumble.
The earth split apart.
Buildings collapsed into endless darkness.
Millions screamed.
Standing in the center of the destruction was a single figure wrapped in white robes.
Its face could not be seen.
It slowly turned toward Ethan.
Even across the impossible distance, he felt its gaze.
The figure raised one hand.
The vision ended.
Ethan dropped the stone and gasped for air.
Lucian watched him without surprise.
"You saw it, didn't you?"
"What was that place?"
Lucian looked toward the horizon.
"A future that no longer exists."
"You mean another timeline?"
Lucian nodded.
"Every time history is changed too much, a new branch is born."
"Some survive."
"Most die."
Ethan swallowed hard.
"How many timelines are there?"
Lucian answered quietly.
"I stopped counting after the first thousand."
The words settled over the forest like cold rain.
A thousand timelines.
A thousand versions of humanity.
A thousand worlds that had risen and fallen.
Ethan could barely comprehend it.
They walked in silence until they reached the edge of town.
Lucian stopped.
"I can't go any farther."
"Why?"
"There are places where people like me aren't welcome."
"What do you mean, 'people like you'?"
Lucian gave a faint smile.
"When the time is right, you'll know."
Before Ethan could ask another question, Lucian stepped backward.
His body dissolved into black feathers that scattered into the wind.
Within seconds, he was gone.
Only one feather landed at Ethan's feet.
Unlike the others, this one did not turn to dust.
It shimmered with a faint silver glow.
Ethan slipped it into his pocket.
Something told him he would need it.
---
That evening, the neighborhood buzzed with excitement.
An old mansion on the hill, abandoned for decades, had been sold.
People gathered outside to watch expensive cars drive through the iron gates.
Children climbed fences for a better view.
Even Ethan's father looked curious.
"They say the new owner is richer than anyone in the province."
His mother laughed.
"I heard he bought the place without even seeing it."
Ethan stared toward the mansion.
A strange feeling settled in his chest.
He had never been there before.
Yet it felt familiar.
As if he had once called it home.
The gates slowly opened.
A black luxury car rolled into the courtyard.
A tall man stepped out.
He wore a perfectly tailored gray suit despite the summer heat.
His hair was streaked with silver, but his posture was straight and confident.
The moment Ethan saw his face, every hair on his body stood up.
It couldn't be.
The man had died years before Ethan's original birth.
He remembered reading about him in history books.
A brilliant scientist.
A genius inventor.
Officially dead at the age of forty-eight.
Yet there he stood.
Alive.
The man's eyes swept across the crowd until they landed on Ethan.
For a heartbeat, time seemed to slow.
Then the man smiled.
Not a warm smile.
A smile of recognition.
As if he had been expecting this meeting for years.
He raised his cane slightly in greeting.
Then he disappeared into the mansion.
The gates closed behind him.
That night, Ethan searched through old newspapers stored in his father's closet.
After hours of reading, he found the article.
A faded photograph matched the man perfectly.
Professor Adrian Vale.
Declared dead in a laboratory explosion.
Date of death:
Ten years before today.
Ethan read the article again.
And again.
The words never changed.
He folded the paper with trembling hands.
"Dead people..."
"...aren't supposed to buy mansions."
Just then, the lights in the house went out.
Darkness swallowed every room.
Outside, dogs began barking.
A slow knock echoed from the front door.
Three knocks.
Then silence.
His father opened it.
No one was there.
Only a small wooden box rested on the doorstep.
Inside lay an old pocket watch.
Its hands moved backward.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
Beneath it was a handwritten note.
Welcome back, Ethan.
I've been waiting twenty years for you.
There was no signature.
Only the symbol of a circle crossed by seven lines.
Ethan's blood ran cold.
Whoever had sent the message knew not only his name—
They knew he had returned from the future.
And somewhere in the darkness beyond the house, unseen eyes were already watching his every move.
To Be Continued...
- Writer
