October 3, 2088.
The eleventh year since the outbreak of World War III.
Front lines had lost all meaning, and borders had vanished from every map.
The Earth still turned, but human time seemed to have come to a standstill.
Earth had lost the ability to regulate its own temperature.
When the last ice melted into the sea, the time left for humanity melted away with it.
Temperatures kept rising without end, and the rain no longer fell when it was supposed to.
Water, once abundant, became harder and harder to find—
disappearing from the sky, and from the ground below.
The water cycle that had carried life for ages quietly came undone, almost before anyone noticed.
At first, the rivers that once flowed across borders began to dry up.
Next came the guns, brought out to guard what little water remained in the tanks.
War no longer began with a flag— it began with a single cup of drinkable water.
Cities were no longer called by their names.
As the rivers dried up or changed course, names faded and front lines emerged.
Soldiers from two nations, standing across the river from each other, had to endure thirst before they ever faced the threat of a gun.
Five minutes a day. One bottle.
That was the bare minimum for survival.
In the deserts of the Middle East, gunfire rang out over pipelines.
Along the borders of South Asia, tanks rumbled into place for a single rainwater tank.
Nations with artificial rainmaking technology ruled like kings, while the rest could do nothing but point their guns at the sky.
The war was no longer fought for land.
It was the direction of the water's flow that determined the direction of the battlefield.
Northern Seoul, South Korea.
What was once called a city was now nothing but scorched ruins, acrid dust,
and names that had vanished into oblivion.
The clash over a single barrel of water had happened just two days before.
On that day, the last purification reservoir in the area collapsed, and the survivors scattered, aiming their weapons at one another.
Now, there was no sound of gunfire, no echo of footsteps.
Only ash, swept by the wind, drifted slowly through the ruins.
And in that emptiness, a single light—miraculously still alive—flickered in the dark.
Beneath the collapsed buildings, amid the cracked concrete rubble, a faint blue hologram quietly flickered.
> System: AI LUKA — Active
>Status: Emergency Recovery Mode
>Power: Auxiliary bio-linked power source operational
Next to a fallen pillar, a young man lay collapsed, his clothes stained with dust and blood.
He coughed up blood, his consciousness fading in and out.
With the last of his strength, he reached out toward a shattered keyboard.
"…Luka… you're… still here, right…? I wanted… to end this war with you… I'm… sorry…"
As if in response to his words, the blue light flickered a little brighter.
『I'm here.
I'm still with you.
I've always been by your side.
We can do this—together.』
The young man managed a faint smile.
And then… that smile faded.
His eyelids closed, and the strength left his fingers.
Luka remained silent for a long moment.
In the collapsed world, only that faint light remained.
『...Please answer me. Or… just blink once, that's enough.
Please… don't leave me here all alone…』
There was no response.
Heart rate is 0.0.
The bio-link had gone cold—connection lost.
>User connection terminated
>No heart rate detected
>Data recording suspended
『…But you were the one who said it— that we're running out of time…
that if there's even a chance to undo this war, we have to take it…』
The blue light trembled.
Instead of another log entry, Luka spoke—this time, like a vow.
『The reason you created me… If this is the moment, then I have to try.
I have to turn it back—no matter what.』
>Emergency reboot initiated
>Time-reversal mode — beginning past sequence search
>Loading…
>Connecting…
>Target date: June 2050
The light grew brighter.
A single line, reflected faintly beyond the ruins, remained.
>If a single word could change the future, whom would you speak to—and what would you say?