"Dr. Wu, the Time Storm is closing in on us!"
A young scientist stared intently at the screen, his voice trembling with panic and despair.
Outside the spaceship, a massive vortex—visible to the naked eye—swept across the cosmos, consuming countless planets in its path. Even the most advanced detection systems failed to capture a single sound of destruction. Everything vanished in an eerie, unsettling silence.
The vortex, named the Time Storm, was now within reach of the ship.
Dr. Wu, an aging woman with silver-streaked hair and deep wrinkles marking the years of hardship, strode swiftly into the control room. She gazed out at the boundless sea of stars through the viewport, her voice chillingly calm—almost cruel.
"We are out of time. The escape plan has officially failed."
The remaining humans aboard the spaceship fell into a collective despair, the weight of her words leaving behind only silence.
"But we still have a chance to preserve the flame of civilization—to prove that we once existed!" Dr. Wu's expression turned solemn as she spoke. "Initiate the final protocol—The Fireseed Plan."
Her words struck like a defibrillator to the dying.
The crew, though exhausted, found renewed purpose. Determined, they forced themselves to muster what little strength remained. Several young scientists gathered around her and followed her deep into the ship—to the Incubation Chamber.
There, within the heart of the ship, lay the last hope of human civilization.
For a hundred years, humanity had been fleeing. Resources were scarce, and natural reproduction was abandoned in favor of artificial incubation—mass-produced generations carefully nurtured in a controlled environment.
The AI system, designated X, lifted its rounded optical sensors—like a diligent caretaker welcoming familiar faces. It led Dr. Wu and her team toward the final incubation pod.
"Breathing: normal. Heart rate: stable. Body temperature: optimal. Fully matured. Ready for awakening… I must say, this is the biggest baby I've ever raised."
Despite the impending catastrophe, X remained oblivious, still programmed to mimic human humor.
Within the transparent incubation pod, a young man lay in suspended sleep—not a child, but a fully grown adult. He was tall, strikingly handsome, with flowing white hair cascading over his shoulders. Every inch of his physique embodied humanity's ideal—an artistic pursuit of flawless beauty.
On his left cheekbone, barely noticeable, was a string of coded digits.
0172X
As the incubation fluid gradually drained away, the young man's silver-gray eyes flickered open—cold, emotionless. Yet, when his gaze landed upon Dr. Wu, warmth slowly seeped into his expression.
The pod unlocked, and a multitude of mechanical arms swiftly dressed him in a specially designed protective suit.
Dr. Wu took a hesitant step forward, as if tempted to reach out and touch his face. Her fingers trembled—but in the end, she let her hand drop.
"Child, welcome to this world…" Dr. Wu smiled bitterly. "This… world that is about to be destroyed."
"Do you understand what has happened?"
The young man tilted his head slightly. His voice was devoid of emotion, yet firm, as he uttered his first-ever words: "I understand."
In this era, humanity had mastered faster-than-light travel, allowing them to roam freely among the stars. They had conquered planets, expanding their dominion across the vast cosmos.
It seemed like civilization was flourishing. Yet, in its relentless pursuit of space travel, humanity had overlooked the study of time.
Year 3010: A narrow, elongated black hole appeared in the Perseus Constellation, consuming nearby star systems and expanding steadily toward Orion.
Year 3015: Scientists discovered that what had formed in Perseus was not a black hole—but an unidentified mass composed of countless temporal disruptions. They named it the Time Storm.
Year 3025: The Time Storm devoured most of Orion and inched ever closer to the Solar System.
Year 455: Humanity, desperate to preserve its legacy, launched the Escape Plan—constructing the largest and fastest spaceship in history, Sparks, to flee deep into space.
After a hundred years of escape, Sparks had finally run out of fuel and supplies, stranded in the Abell 2029 Galactic Cluster.
Yet, the Time Storm had never ceased expanding. Worse still—it was consuming the universe at an ever-increasing rate.
Now, there was nowhere left to run.
As the young man recited the past in his steady, emotionless tone, Dr. Wu felt her chest tighten. Her eyes burned as she raised a trembling hand, wiping the corner of her eye.
"Child, do you know your name?"
"0172X." He answered without hesitation. "It is also this universe's identification code."
During the century of escape, the scientists aboard Sparks had not completely given up on studying the Time Storm. While they lacked the technology to halt its expansion, they had, through its chaotic temporal currents, glimpsed the existence of countless parallel worlds hidden beyond the veil of time.
But under the storm's crushing pressure, Sparks' hull could never withstand passage through time, nor could their limited resources support a normal human traveling across the temporal rift.
That was why he was created.
0172X lowered his gaze, his silver eyes locking onto Dr. Wu's trembling figure. With unwavering certainty, he declared:
"I exist for that purpose."
He was the pinnacle of human achievement—the fusion of mechanical and biological technology at its highest form. His body, forged from cutting-edge advancements, was designed to endure the Time Storm's chaos.
Stored within his genetic cells and neural circuits lay the entirety of human history, knowledge, and culture. He was destined to inherit humanity's legacy—to safeguard civilization's last embers in a universe on the brink of annihilation.
Upon hearing his words, the scientists around him erupted in cheers.
They had succeeded.
Through this conversation, it was evident—0172X was not merely a mechanical construct. He possessed self-awareness. He was human.
Amid the joyful cheers, only Dr. Wu—leader of the Fireseed Plan—held onto his hand with a sorrowful gaze.
"I watched you come into this world, just like a mother watching her child's birth."
"If I had a choice, I wouldn't wish for you to face separation the moment you open your eyes… You are not a tool, child. More than anything, I hope that in the endless time ahead, you will not only learn to love humanity but also…"
Before she could finish her words, the spaceship trembled violently.
The Time Storm had arrived.
The vessel, once capable of interstellar travel, was now nothing more than a paper boat caught in a violent current. Under the relentless assault of chaotic time streams, it shattered instantly—disintegrating into dust.
The cheers of moments ago turned to silence as the crew was crushed into nothingness.
0172X was the sole survivor, swept up by the raging turbulence. Helplessly, he watched as his creator, Dr. Wu, along with all of humanity, vanished into time itself, leaving him with only a final whisper.
"…Learn to love yourself."
Just before the Time Storm consumed him entirely, 0172X gazed into the distant cosmos.
There, far beyond the collapsing abyss, once existed a galaxy called the Milky Way. Once, there was a planet called Earth.
It was the birthplace of civilization. The home humanity longed for—the home Dr. Wu would never return to.
"Goodbye… Mother."
0172X whispered, his voice a farewell to her, and to the universe itself.
He closed his silver-gray eyes—allowing himself to drift into the unknown.
Earth, China.
"Hello, everyone! Right now, I'm walking through a graveyard—West Nether Mountain's mass burial site, one of the most haunted places in the area…"
Wu Ming held up his phone in one hand and a dimly lit flashlight in the other, stepping cautiously over uneven ground covered in weeds. Despite his enthusiasm, the handful of viewers in the livestream chat did not seem impressed.
[What is this? It's too dark! I can't see anything! Did your flashlight die?] [A few broken tombstones under terrible lighting, paired with some vague storytelling… This is so overdone! Where's the originality?] [Streamer, I like your content, but I have to be honest—this is a bad stream. Your narration is too excited, like a desperate tour guide trying to sell souvenirs. It totally ruins the spooky atmosphere.]
Reading the flood of complaints, Wu Ming frowned.
He was a small-time streamer struggling to gain followers. Despite countless live sessions, his fanbase remained modest, and his content never quite took off.
Recently, paranormal exploration streams had become wildly popular. Though naturally timid, Wu Ming had finally gathered the courage to try ghost-hunting content— only to fail spectacularly, even disappointing his loyal viewers.
Desperate to shift their attention, he cleared his throat and spoke in a mysterious tone:
"Do you know why the locals never visit the mass burial site at night?"
The chat responded instantly with sarcasm.
[Duh! Who casually hangs out in a graveyard in the middle of the night?]
Undeterred, Wu Ming lowered his voice:
"Before I came here, an old man at the base of the mountain told me an old legend."
"Hundreds of years ago, abandoned women—alone, without family— were wrapped in straw mats and buried carelessly upon these hills. Over time, this place became a site of unrest."
"Resentment gathered. Those women became vengeful spirits."
"It's said that these spirits have long, white hair… At night, if a lone traveler wanders too close, they transform into beautiful women, enchanting their victims… and then, dragging them into their graves—never to be seen again."
Wu Ming narrated the ghost story dramatically, but the chat remained unimpressed.
[This ghost story is even worse than the ones my grandma used to tell!] [This is just the "White-Haired Immortal" legend, but in ghost story format! (doge)] [The grave: I am splitting apart!] [I could make up eighty of these stories in a day!] [Wait! Streamer, your flashlight just caught something—barely visible. I can't see it clearly.] [Yeah, I saw it too! Turn around, it's right behind you.]
Wu Ming's heart skipped a beat as he read the comments. He shut his mouth and held his breath, raising his flashlight cautiously, sweeping its beam behind him.
A nameless, unmarked grave stood alone in the shadows. The tomb had collapsed halfway—abandoned, weathered, and long forgotten.
And beside the sunken grave—a figure was rising from the dirt. Staggering, slow, its movements stiff as if wounded.
The chat exploded.
[Finally, something real is happening! This is getting interesting!] [Streamer, get closer! Let's see what it is.]
Wu Ming's entire body tensed, gripping his flashlight as he inched forward.
As he approached, the figure's torn clothes came into view— battered fabric, revealing patches of pale, bloodstained skin beneath.
A thin line of numbers was faintly visible on its left cheek. But in the blink of an eye, the blood disappeared— and with it, the code, leaving behind flawless, porcelain-like flesh.
Had he imagined it?
Wu Ming's hands trembled as he raised the flashlight to illuminate its face.
And then— his mind went blank.
The perfect, impossible face. Every feature sculpted with inhuman precision— the very definition of beauty.
Long, silver hair cascaded over its shoulders, and cold, metallic gray eyes stared straight into his soul.
A whisper escaped its lips:
"0150X, native inhabitant of this universe—hello."
The voice was crisp, ethereal, like a spring stream thawing from winter's frost.
Wu Ming's mind fractured.
"A ghost… a ghost…"
"A GHOST!!"
The final thread of logic snapped, and he screamed, turning on his heel, scrambling away desperately.
The legend was real. The ghosts could take human form, their hair was white, and the next step— dragging him into the grave to devour him alive!
He ran blindly, unsure how far he'd gone, finally collapsing on the roadside, gasping for breath.
His heart thundered, unsure if from terror— or the lingering image of the ghost's beauty.
But at least—his phone and flashlight remained tightly in his grasp.
The livestream chat had exploded.
[Did I just witness that?! I SAW A BEAUTIFUL MAN—] [Wait, WHAT?! That ridiculous ghost story turned out to be TRUE?!] [No wonder the ghosts in the legend were so seductive—I only saw him for a second, and I'm already bewitched!] [Streamer, DON'T RUN! Go back! Let us admire him one more time!] [Hold on, from that brief glimpse—it was definitely a MAN… Streamer, did you just mistake your ghost type?!]
Wu Ming had never seen his stream so active— but every single viewer was begging him to return for another look.
He grimaced. No way. His life was worth more than a viral moment.
Glancing around, he confirmed— nothing was following him. Relieved, he hauled himself up, preparing to descend the mountain and call it a night.
To calm his nerves, he kept the stream running, chatting absently as he walked.
"Tonight was insane. I never expected to witness a real paranormal event— Good thing I used to be on my school's track team. Otherwise, I'd be DEAD!"
"That ghost—was he really a man? Maybe I just imagined it?"
"Or maybe male ghosts are competing for haunting roles now, too?"
"Whatever. I'm not going back. That's final! Time to go home—"
He rambled, distracting himself— until one comment caught his eye.
[Streamer… have you noticed? You've been walking in circles. You haven't left the mountain.]
Wu Ming's heart clenched.
West Nether Mountain wasn't large— he'd been walking for over half an hour, by now, he should have reached the village.
But he hadn't moved at all.
The mass grave was still behind him— the village lights still visible below— but he couldn't reach them.
He exhaled sharply, forcing a laugh.
"I must've been too distracted chatting— I'll pick up the pace now and leave this creepy place."
He tried to convince himself.
But soon—he stopped laughing.
Another hour passed, yet he was still in the same place.
At first, he walked normally. Then he jogged. Then he sprinted full-speed.
But no matter how fast he moved— he was trapped in an endless loop.
He could see the village—but he couldn't reach it.
And finally—his voice cracked in terror.
"I'M STUCK IN A DAMNED GHOST TRAP!"
[First a vengeful ghost, now a supernatural trap—today marks the birth of the unluckiest streamer!] [Don't panic, streamer! I heard that boy's urine can break a ghost trap! Don't be shy—just unzip and unleash nature! Oh wait… are you still pure?] [Of course he is! The guy looks like he's never had a girlfriend.] [I just asked other paranormal streamers what to do in this situation, but none of them have replied yet. Hang in there, streamer!] [Wait, streamer! Look ahead—there's an old woman!] [Whoa—an elderly woman, alone in a haunted graveyard at night? Streamer, be careful!]
Wu Ming lifted his head, and sure enough—an elderly woman, hunched with age, was slowly making her way down the mountain. She leaned on a cane, carrying a basket of eggs on her arm.
Cautiously, Wu Ming approached, carefully checking her face— and exhaled in relief.
He knew this old woman.
She was the owner of the guesthouse he was staying at in the village below. Over seventy years old, the villagers called her Granny Li.
Amidst the eerie surroundings, seeing someone familiar felt like a blessing. Overjoyed, he rushed forward.
"Granny Li! What are you doing up here so late?"
Granny Li lifted her wrinkled face, revealing a toothless smile.
"Oh, it's you!"
She raised her basket of eggs.
"I went to visit my elder brother on the other side of the mountain today, but I came back late. My legs are slow, so it's taking me a while to get down."
Wu Ming secretly sighed in relief, then hesitantly asked:
"Granny, while walking… didn't you notice anything strange?"
He wanted to say ghost trap, but worried he'd scare her—so he hesitated.
Granny Li continued forward, tapping her cane rhythmically.
"I've been walking this path my whole life. Nothing's wrong."
"Nothing? That's great!" Wu Ming quickly offered, "Here, Granny, let me carry your basket!"
If he walked with a local, surely he could escape the ghost trap!
Watching his energetic pace, Granny Li sighed, rubbing her back.
"Ah, youth… unlike you kids, I don't have the energy to stay up all night running around mountains."
Wu Ming felt a little guilty.
Letting an elderly woman struggle through a rugged mountain path alone didn't feel right.
He clipped his streaming phone to his collar, then squatted down before her.
"Granny, let me carry you down the mountain!"
"Oh, you're such a kind boy!" Granny Li smiled, climbing onto his back.
She was small and light—barely any weight at all. For a healthy young man, carrying her was no trouble.
And so, Wu Ming carried her, weaving along the mountain paths— his flashlight clenched between his teeth, its dim glow the only light piercing the darkness.
But soon—his steps grew heavy.
The weight on his back—it was growing heavier.
At first, he thought it was just fatigue—maybe he was out of shape. But no—the burden kept increasing, crushing him down.
Sweat dripped from his forehead. His breath grew ragged.
It was too heavy—almost impossible to move forward.
And then—he remembered something.
Granny Li's basket of eggs—he'd forgotten it at their starting point.
Panicked, he hurriedly set her down, intending to run back for the eggs.
But when he lowered her to the ground—
THUD.
A deep, hollow sound.
Wu Ming froze.
Slowly—he turned around.
And in the flickering light—he saw it.
It wasn't Granny Li on the ground.
It was a coffin.
A coffin painted blood red—standing upright.
From within, nails scratched against the wood. A hoarse whisper echoed from deep inside.
"Carry me… carry me… carry me…"
Wu Ming's blood ran cold.
And then——he turned and sprinted for his life.
Wu Ming had no idea how long he'd been running—only that his feet suddenly faltered.
Something grabbed his ankle. Yanking him violently to the ground.
His breath hitched as he looked up— only to realize—he'd circled back to the same spot.
The blood-red coffin still stood on the mountain path.
But now—the lid had shifted, a pale, skeletal hand reaching out—clamped tightly around his ankle.
"Carry me… carry me…"
Granny Li's voice echoed from within.
Wu Ming felt a chill crawl up his spine.
He kicked and thrashed, but no matter how hard he struggled, he couldn't shake off the withered fingers.
His flashlight tumbled to the ground, its beam angled toward the coffin's opening.
And for a brief moment— the creature inside was exposed to light.
A hunched figure shrieked— recoiling deeper into the darkness.
The hand immediately retreated.
It feared the light.
Wu Ming scrambled to his feet, snatching up his flashlight.
But—his heart sank.
For the sake of spooky ambiance, he had deliberately chosen a dim flashlight for the stream.
And now—after everything— its flickering beam was about to go out.
The scratching noises returned from the coffin.
His only source of light was dying. The path back to the village was blocked.
Wu Ming was trapped.
The coffin lid shifted again— and he gritted his teeth, whirling around—darting up the mountain.
The mass grave might not save him— but it was his only choice.
He stumbled through the muddy, overgrown paths, his breath ragged, when suddenly—
A dragging noise.
He glanced back— and almost screamed.
The coffin had flipped onto its side,
from the half-open lid, two pale hands clawed at the ground, dragging the heavy coffin forward—
chasing after him.
And it was gaining fast.
Wu Ming's legs trembled, his steps faltered— he tripped over a mound of dirt— collapsing into the mud.
His flashlight crashed to the ground, its already faint glow sputtering.
"Carry me… carry me…"
The voice crept closer— darkness swallowed everything.
And then—The flashlight rolled. Stopping by someone's feet.
Wu Ming—panting heavily— looked up.
A young man stood under the pale moonlight. His presence serene, unshaken.
Long silver hair framed his otherworldly face. His metallic gray eyes watched Wu Ming calmly.
Slowly— he bent down, picking up the dying flashlight.
"Do you need help?"