"Did you see that video? The time traveller one?"
The question echoed down the long, sterile corridor of New Horizon Medical Institute, carried on tired voices and half-believing laughter.
Dr. Elena Carter didn't look up from her chart. She'd been on shift for thirty-two hours straight, surviving on coffee and pure determination. Viral videos were the last thing she cared about.
But the chatter refused to die down.
"They say he appeared out of nowhere," whispered Maya, her junior researcher. "A man claiming to be from eighty years in the future. He warned about a disease that'll appear exactly in that year — one that turns people into monsters."
Another nurse snorted. "Monsters? Come on. That's a marketing stunt."
"No, listen!" Maya pressed, eyes wide. "He said it's a rare virus — one that mutates human cells, making people stronger, faster, even superhuman. But the stronger they get, the less human they remain. Their bodies change, like… anime characters, glowing eyes, bright hair, unreal beauty. Some lose control completely."
That made Elena pause. "So, superpowered monsters?" she said dryly. "Sounds like half the anime section of Netflix."
But Maya only frowned. "The weird part is, after uploading that message, the man vanished. No name, no address, no digital trace. It's like he never existed."
---
Later that morning, the gossip became an order.
A memo arrived from the Global Biomedical Authority, stamped URGENT. The directive was short and unbelievable:
> "Effective immediately, Project Horizon will investigate potential biological foundations of the 'Evolution Plague' described in the recent time anomaly transmission."
Elena stared at the message in disbelief. "They want us to research a prophecy?"
Her supervisor, Dr. Nathan Wells, rubbed his temples. "Apparently, yes. They think there might be fragments of truth in it — maybe based on some classified research. We've been instructed to find a theoretical explanation, however unlikely."
Elena gave a tired laugh. "So we're spending taxpayer money chasing a time traveller's bedtime story?"
Wells didn't laugh back. "Orders from above, Elena. The man's video wasn't just viral — it was intercepted on encrypted military frequencies. Someone high up thinks it's real."
---
By afternoon, half the hospital staff had gathered in the break room to watch the mysterious footage again.
The video was grainy, recorded in what looked like a metallic bunker. A man stood there, around thirty, eyes burning with intensity. His voice was raw but steady.
> "If you're hearing this, I am from the year 2100. Eighty years from your time, a mutation will awaken — a disease that grants power but erases humanity. People will evolve beyond recognition: stronger, faster, almost… beautiful. Our bodies change. We begin to resemble the idealized heroes from your stories — anime, comics, legends. But beauty doesn't save us. The virus devours our minds."
Gasps filled the room.
The man continued, eyes haunted.
> "We built a sanctuary — the Valley. A place protected by towers that generate energy walls to keep the infected out. Here, we train survivors to control their mutations. Some succeed. Some… don't."
He took a deep breath, voice trembling.
> "And one more thing — a confession. I married someone from your time. A doctor. She was brilliant, beautiful, stubborn — a woman who didn't believe in fate. She died in your era, and somehow… she appeared here. Different, but the same soul. If she's still there, if she ever sees this — tell her I kept my promise. I built the Valley for her."
Then the screen glitched, and the man disappeared. No ending. No explanation.
---
The silence in the room was heavy.
Someone finally muttered, "Creepy." Another whispered, "He sounds insane."
But Elena didn't say anything. Her heart had skipped a beat when he said doctor. She told herself it was coincidence — just a story, a myth — but something in his tone had sounded too real.
Back in her office, she dropped into her chair and stared at the classified folder labeled Project Horizon: Mutation Study — 80-Year Projection.
Inside were early-stage reports, molecular models, and notes about a dormant viral strain — one with unusual energy responses.
She rubbed her forehead, sighing. "We're wasting time," she muttered. "Chasing ghosts, myths, and impossible futures."
Outside the glass walls of her office, the city buzzed with normal life — traffic, lights, the hum of everything she understood.
And yet, a part of her felt uneasy.
---
By midnight, she was still working. Alone.
Monitors blinked. Coffee cups crowded her desk. Her eyes stung from staring at data that made no sense.
She reached for another file when her chest tightened suddenly — sharp, suffocating pain spreading across her ribs.
Her pen slipped from her fingers. The room tilted.
Not now… not here…
Her knees gave out, and she collapsed, gasping, the fluorescent light above her blurring into white haze. Her heart thundered — then stuttered — then stopped.
The last thing she saw before the darkness swallowed her was the frozen frame of the video still glowing on her monitor —
the time traveller's solemn face saying,
> "If she's still there… tell her I kept my promise."
---
When Elena opened her eyes again, she was lying on soft ground.
The sterile scent of disinfectant was gone, replaced by the sweet smell of grass and rain.
She sat up slowly. The world around her was… impossible.
A valley stretched out before her — filled with shining towers, glowing walls humming with energy, and people training in the distance. But these weren't ordinary people. They moved like lightning, their bodies radiating light. Some had silver hair that shimmered like moonlight, others eyes that glowed like embers. They looked unreal — as if drawn from an artist's dream.
And hovering before her, written in pale blue light, were the words that made her heart stop again:
[Welcome, Dr. Elena Carter.]
[System Online — Valley Initialization Complete.]
Elena's breath caught. The air hummed like electricity.
The valley was real.
The time traveller had been real.
And somehow, impossibly — she had become part of his world.