The lab was too quiet.
Not the good kind of quiet—the comforting silence that meant progress was being made. No, this was the eerie silence of a machine holding its breath, as though the world itself was waiting to see if humanity had just made its biggest breakthrough or its last mistake.
Sakura N. Yuugana sat hunched at her console, long fingers flicking across holographic panels. The screens reflected in her azure eyes, sharp and restless, like twin shards of glass under dim light. Her braid had loosened hours ago, strands of black hair clinging to her pale face, but she hardly noticed.
The Chrono-Splicer—the heart of Project Paradoxicality—stood at the center of the chamber. Its alloy rings rotated slowly, emitting a low hum that reverberated through the air like a heartbeat. Within the core, light swirled faintly, threatening to blaze to life at the slightest touch of command.
Sakura hated it.
Not because she didn't understand it—on the contrary, she understood it better than almost anyone else alive. She hated it because she understood too well.
Her gaze flicked to a corner of the chamber where, years ago, a brass plaque had been installed:
PROJECT PARADOXICALITYToward the Dawn of Human Evolution
She narrowed her eyes. Those words weren't hers. They belonged to someone else—a visionary, a dreamer who had once declared humanity would surpass its own limits. A man brilliant enough to start a revolution in science… and reckless enough to ignore the cost.
Sakura exhaled through her nose, steady but tense. She could still hear his voice sometimes, echoing like a ghost through the halls. What if humanity could evolve? What if we could seize powers beyond imagination? What if history itself could be rewritten?
What if. What if. What if.
She tapped a few final commands into the console, the hum of the Splicer deepening in pitch. Stabilization rings aligned. Energy readings normalized. For the first time in months, the machine was finally behaving.
"Figures," she muttered, leaning back and rubbing her temples. "All these idiots cheering about changing history, and I'm the one who is cleaning up their mess."
Her words were swallowed by the hum of the core.
For a moment, she almost allowed herself a rare smile. Almost.
But fate, as usual, had other plans.
"Yo! Still awake, Sakura?"
The voice cut through the chamber like a bad radio signal. Sakura's shoulders stiffened. She didn't turn immediately, already dreading what she would see.
Sure enough, when she glanced toward the doorway, there he was.
Renji Akaru. Intern. Disaster in human form. Somehow, for some unknown reason, is still employed.
His lab coat was wrinkled and far too big, his brown hair looked like it hadn't met a comb in days, and in his hand…
Sakura's left eye twitched. "Is that juice?"
Renji raised the plastic cup with a grin, the neon-orange liquid sloshing dangerously close to the rim. A bendy straw protruded from it at an absurd angle. "Citrus blend! You've been holed up here all night, right? Thought you could use some hydration."
"I don't drink poison."
"It's not poison! It's loaded with vitamins."
"It glows, Renji. Drinks aren't supposed to glow."
"Glow means healthy!"
Sakura turned back to her console, deciding that ignoring him was the only path to sanity. If she pretended he didn't exist, maybe the universe would take the hint.
Unfortunately, Renji Akaru was immune to hints.
He strolled closer, sipping obnoxiously through the straw. "So this is the famous time machine, huh? Gotta say, looks way cooler than I thought. Like something out of a sci-fi holodrama."
"Don't touch anything," Sakura warned flatly.
"I won't! Geez, relax. Do I look like the kind of guy who'd mess with sensitive high-tech equipment?"
"Yes."
Renji laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Okay, fair."
He leaned over to peer at the glowing core. "So, how's it work? Like, do we hop in and boom, we're in the dinosaur age? Or is it more like shwoooop—"
His impression of a teleport noise was cut short as his foot caught on a loose cable.
In a flash of horror, Sakura saw it: the stumble, the flailing arms, the juice arcing through the air in glorious slow motion.
"RENJI!"
Splat.
The orange liquid splashed across the console.
For a single heartbeat, the lab went utterly still.
Then the Chrono-Splicer roared to life.
Panels flashed red. Warning klaxons shrieked. The air grew electric, prickling Sakura's skin. Sparks erupted as the console shorted, the machine pulling power from every available source.
Sakura's violet eyes widened in fury and terror. "You bloody idiot!"
Renji scrambled back, eyes wide. "I didn't mean to—!"
"Shut up and get down!" Sakura's hands flew across the console, desperate to reroute power, but the system was fried. The juice had bridged circuits in ways even her genius couldn't undo. The core pulsed brighter, energy swelling far beyond safe limits.
The Chrono-Splicer was activating.
The floor shuddered. Gravity warped. A vortex of light erupted in the chamber, pulling papers, tools, and even furniture toward its spiraling maw.
Renji clung to the floor, screaming over the chaos. "Turn it off!"
"Do you think I'm not trying?!" Sakura snapped, gripping the console with one hand while pounding override commands with the other.
But it was useless.
The light swallowed them whole.
Weightlessness. Silence.
Sakura drifted in a void of shifting colors—blues, purples, streaks of white tearing across an endless horizon. Her thoughts scattered like debris in a storm. Equations. Memories. A voice whispering toward a new dawn.
She clenched her teeth. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen…
Then—impact.
Sand exploded around her as she slammed into solid ground, coughing violently. Salt filled her mouth. She rolled onto her side, lungs burning, the roar of waves crashing in her ears.
Nearby, Renji groaned, sprawled face-first in the sand. "Ugh… did we… did we just die?"
Sakura pushed herself up onto shaky arms, braid unraveling completely. Her azure eyes widened as she took in their surroundings.
An endless ocean stretched before them, glittering under twin moons—one silver, one crimson. Strange shells littered the shore, glowing faintly with each wave. Behind them loomed a jungle of impossible trees, their leaves shimmering with iridescent colors, bending unnaturally as though reaching toward the sky.
And above it all, constellations she didn't recognize stared down like watchful eyes.
"This… this isn't Earth," Sakura whispered.
Renji rolled over, squinting at the alien sky. "Well, we're definitely not in the lab anymore. Or, like… anywhere in Tokyo."
"Brilliant observation," she deadpanned.
"I'm just saying!" He sat up, brushing sand out of his hair. "Okay, so we're… uh… lost? In time? On another planet? Both? I mean, I always wanted a vacation, but not like this."
Sakura ignored him, flexing her wrist. Her console sparked faintly, the holographic interface warped. Symbols she didn't recognize—strange, rune-like circuits—flickered across its surface. She touched them cautiously. For an instant, violet light shimmered across her skin.
Her heart skipped.
Father… if this was your vision… it's already gone wrong.
The ground trembled.
Renji froze. "Uh… Sakura? Did the sand just… growl?"
From the tree-line came a rustling, then the snap of branches. Leaves shivered violently, though no wind stirred.
Something was coming.
The jungle parted, and a figure emerged.
It walked on two legs but was no human. Scales mottled its skin. Its limbs were too long, ending in hooked claws. Its glowing yellow eyes locked onto them with predatory hunger.
Renji's jaw dropped. "Oh no. Nope. Absolutely not."
The creature snarled, saliva dripping from jagged teeth.
Sakura stepped in front of Renji, her chest tight with adrenaline. They had no weapons, no backup, no chance—
And yet…
Her hand tingled. Power thrummed under her skin, pulsing in rhythm with her heartbeat. Sparks of blue and gold light flickered at her fingertips, alive and wild.
Renji gasped. "Sakura… what's happening to you?"
She stared at her hand, horror and awe twisting in her gut.
"I… I don't know. But…" Her eyes snapped to the beast as it crouched, ready to lunge.
"…I think the experiment worked."
The creature roared and charged.