The alarms screamed, tearing through the air with a piercing tone. The research hall shook with every tremor, the neon lights flickering in a sickly red. Akram spun around sharply. His five colleagues were still there, frozen, unable to move, their eyes fixed on the reinforced windows.
Beyond them, the capital was already ablaze. Immaculate towers collapsed, swallowed by a crimson glow that split the horizon open like a gaping wound. Military drones, once flawless silhouettes in the sky, crashed one after another, caught in an invisible grip.
"We're finished…" one of the many researchers whispered.
Askov, the oldest member of his unit, then spoke up:"A-Akram, we need to get the hell out of here, now!"
Akram's throat tightened. He couldn't decide. His world was literally collapsing around him, and his brilliance could not make up for the lack of experience when faced with the end of the world.
Suddenly, the lab door burst open with a crash, pulling Akram from his paralysis.Out stepped Doctor Kaelis, Akram's mentor and guide. He now stood before the young prodigy's unit.
"Follow me, if you want to live."
Doctor Kaelis walked heavily through the collapsing corridors of the complex. His white coat snapped behind him, stained with dust and blood. Behind him, Akram and his five colleagues stumbled after, shaken by the tremors that rattled the ground.
The alarms screamed on, casting their red glow across the metallic walls. Each explosion sent the ceiling lights shuddering.
"W-What's happening, Kaelis?" Akram asked, completely overwhelmed by the situation.
Kaelis shot him only a brief glance, his expression as cold as ever."You're not the type to lose your composure, Akram. Get a grip."
"The King just destroyed our world. He has betrayed us," he added, as they rushed down endless staircases and winding paths.
They finally reached a reinforced door. Kaelis tapped a code into the console, and the panel opened with a hydraulic hiss. Inside, twenty translucent capsules lined the walls, connected to a machine that hummed faintly despite the chaos.
"The stasis pods… of course!" cried Rhaega, a doctoral student and one of Akram's subordinates.
Kaelis turned to them, his face etched with grim determination."This is your only chance. Don't waste it."
Akram's colleagues didn't hesitate for even a moment. One by one, they rushed toward the capsules. Their pale faces reflected in the glass, bathed in the cold light of the screens.
But Akram didn't move an inch."No, I can't… We can't! Kaelis, you know what this means, don't you? Decades… maybe centuries will pass before we wake up. What's the point? We have to solve this now, and fast."
He searched his mentor's gaze for some kind of escape, but Kaelis only gave a small nod toward the men standing behind Akram.They grabbed the young scientist by the arms, holding him tightly.
"You're too valuable for this. Your mind will save us—but not now," Kaelis answered simply.
They dragged him into the chamber. One of the capsules opened with a hiss, cold and indifferent as a tomb. Akram struggled, cursing them, roaring that he wanted to stay. It was useless. His fists hammered the metal, his nails scraped at the glass, but the capsule closed with a sharp click.
The cold enveloped him. His breathing grew shallow. His mind clouded… but not completely. His fingers had already tapped a command into the internal panel. The system faltered, buzzed, then accepted the hack. An interface appeared, and Akram injected his personal AI—a clandestine program of his own design.
"I won't sleep… not entirely."
Through the sensors, he began to receive real-time data streams: fragments of communications, distorted visual feeds, pulses of the outside world.
On the other side of the glass, Kaelis placed a hand against the pod. His lips moved without a sound, but Akram read the words: "Survive."
Then the stasis activated. Ice wrapped around him, and everything went dark.
Akram was plunged into unconsciousness—or rather, a partial one. For twenty long years, he listened to the information relayed by his AI, which never once failed in its duty.
It relayed, in broad strokes, the major changes of the world: new factions, new heroes, tragedies.
"Year 3791: Total disappearance of the Mad King, nowhere to be found on Earth.""Year 3794: Human population reduced by 60.6% since the Great Betrayal.""Year 3795: Collapse of the New Senasra Empire.""Year 3805: Human population reduced by 98.4% since the Great Betrayal."
Bathed in this constant flow of information, Akram still couldn't unlock his capsule. It was the one thing he had failed to hack.
Then, deep in his half-consciousness, a sound echoed inside the frozen coffin. Once. Twice. A third time… Continuous crashes, striking the capsule itself.
"Year 3810: Intrusion detected in laboratory. Capsule damaged. Awakening process initiated for subject: A.CRIMSON."
The capsule opened slowly, in a screech of rust and broken metal. Akram emerged from his long slumber, looking the same as before—except his cheeks, hollowed by two decades without nourishment.
He finally raised his eyes. A man stood before him. His clothes were torn, a filthy poncho smeared with blood, yet he carried himself with pride. His frame was intimidating, his long mustache sharp, his gaze piercing. At his waist hung a long sabre.
Behind him stood his group, all of them just as fearsome, clad in the same ragged gear. Akram looked them over one by one. Were they saviors? Or simple raiders?
He didn't really have time to wonder.
With a swift move, the man in the poncho seized him by the throat, lifting him from his long-resting bed.
Akram couldn't move at all.