October 17, 2042
After the total collapse of human civilization, a cascade of catastrophes—climate crisis, global war, rampant pandemics, constant volcanic eruptions, and rogue technology—drove humanity and countless species to the brink of extinction. Within mere decades, the planet was left scarred and slowly becoming forever silent. Fewer than a billion humans remained scattered across the Earth, millions dying daily.
Advanced science and medicine bought them a fragile edge.
A final generation of vaccines spared the survivors from the mutations ravaging most lifeforms.
But immunity wasn't salvation.
With no sustainable food production, no organized nations, and no working global infrastructure, the human population continued to dwindle. Shelters became battlegrounds. Only those who managed to find refuge inside the last green bastions—protected biodomes or fortress strongholds—had a chance.
The rest died in the savage wild.
Faced with the inevitability of extinction, a desperate faction of scientists and leaders turned away from failed dreams of space. The stars were out of reach; fuel was scarce, manpower scarcer.
Earth had become a tomb with a ticking clock.
Within a decade, projections showed: that everything would die off forever this time.
So began Project Aethergate—the last hope for some, and humanity's best chance for survival for others.
The project's origin lay in the shadows of the last world war, where weapons of unimaginable scale were tested in secret. One such weapon—built on experimental dark matter principles—malfunctioned. Instead of destroying, it opened something.
A gate.
Where the device ended up is unknown. But what it left behind became the most heavily quarantined discovery in human history. A phenomenon that defied physics—and promised a future, if it could be controlled.
Now, years later, the surviving minds of humanity pour their last resources into studying it. The portal is unstable. Dangerous. But on the other side… there might be a world untouched by Earth's collapse.
That was where Dr. Morluw hoped to lead humanity.
To a second chance of a proper life.
He knew the dangers.
The calculations were impossible to perfect, and the system never stopped warning him. Alarms blared, screens flashed, and the console beeped in sharp, anxious intervals—one red flag after another appeared before him.
[DIMENSIONAL STABILITY: UNACCEPTABLE]
[ENERGY SURGE DETECTED]
[CONTAINMENT BREACH RISK: 97%]
Still, he pressed forward.
There was no alternative.
Earth was all but finished. He and everyone else were living on borrowed time, one step closer to total destruction every day. So, what were a few warnings compared to extinction?
He had already opened seven gates—each leading to an unknown world. None of the creatures sent through had ever returned.
But the seventh gave him something else.
A miracle.
Long strands of grass.
Lush, bright green, and unlike anything left on Earth, full of vitality. Its cellular structure confirmed it: a foreign species, yet close enough to photosynthesize and a source of sustainable life.
There was hope once again.
Today would be the final test. The last attempt.
His dark matter reserves were gone—burned through in previous openings. The facility's fuel was nearly depleted. One more activation and the station would go dark for good.
So he ignored the many warnings.
All of them.
There was only one thing left to do.
Press the button.
Just one push and the world might change forever.
He stood still for a moment, sweat on his brow, heart thudding like a war drum. If this failed… he would be the man who ended humanity. If it worked… he might be the one who saved it.
It felt like flipping a coin.
He glanced at the clock. He wanted it to happen exactly at noon.
"Three… two… one…"
Click.
The world trembled.
What he had triggered wasn't a single portal—it was a global chain reaction. He had programmed Aethergate to open across the planet, warping space in dozens of zones at once.
The destinations? Unknown.
But he hoped… prayed… that at least some would lead to safety.
To fresh skies.
To grass.
Endless fields of grass.
He slung on his backpack, grabbed the suitcase packed with seeds, tools, and essentials to start life anew—and turned toward the fogged mirror of the gate and then to his team, a total of twelve others.
"Well… those who will enter let's go, we only have a minute at most."
A swirling veil, opaque and silent. No one could see what was on the other side.
But they could step through.
He stared into the haze.
"I hope… others will also enter the portals… we just didn't have the resources to tell them all," he whispered to himself in lament.
He then put his hand inside the portal, and he felt what seemed like the sun on his skin, he pulled it back and saw that nothing had changed with his hand.
"You see, all fine… now let's hurry…"