"Arrrgh!"
Tyrion groaned, falling to his bottom as he grasped his gut tightly, putting pressure on the massive hole that was there — one in which his organs could be clearly seen dangling.
It was not like he hadn't seen it coming, but the way it came was quite surprising...
To explain his current predicament.
This was day two thousand four hundred and thirty-two since the great Mutant apocalypse that struck the Earth, festering into something uncontrollable.
It was six years back when the human race was attacked by a phenomenon — a disease that mutated all that was living and existing into monsters; mutations that sought nothing but death and destruction.
Many died from the first wave of infection, becoming monsters. Others committed suicide after the fall of the Internet and electricity.
And those that survived became the last lights of humanity, fighting back against the mutated. Still, it was impossible to win, as with the Internet gone, humanity had lost the majority of its weapons to battle against the infected. And unlike the survivors, the mutated gained more numbers every single day by infecting others.
So, it was a losing battle.
Tyrion scoffed, jerking his head back to rest on the wall behind him. He coughed out more blood, knowing it — this was his end.
'I have no idea if I am one of the last humans still existing, but I am in this case.' Tyrion shifted his gaze until it landed on a man's body.
The man wore a white lab coat drenched in his blood. He was dead on the floor, half of his neck torn apart till it was simply seen dangling like a chicken with a half-slit throat.
"Ohh, Ben," Tyrion forced out a smile seeing the body lie there.
Ben had been his friend, maybe even his best friend, and hope throughout the apocalypse. Together, they had led a good battle against the mutated, crafting tech that gave humanity an edge.
However, even after all that, they still failed to win against the mutated.
"All in all, it seems we wasted the last five years," Tyrion spoke in a low tone. "Maybe the mutated will evolve back to intelligence in the nearest millennium, aye Be—"
Before he could finish, interrupting him came a number of snarls around the room, and in the next second, the double doors that had been sealed to keep the room secured went flying off their hinges, hurtling into the nearest wall — leaving way for dozens of mutants to flood in.
Tyrion's eyes grew wide as he stared at the faces of the infected as they hungrily closed the gap between them.
They were ferocious — larger than a normal human by a few feet, having pale, rock-like skin with uneven bumps. Some even had larger body parts; others looked like normal humans, just with pale skin...
All newly and old infected, all to finish the job.
Tyrion felt his heart tremble at the thought of it.
Being torn apart limb from limb... I can't think of a far worse death.
"Looks like you had the easier way, bro," Tyrion smiled at Ben one last time, savoring his final moments as the mutated bore down on him.
At this moment, he had merely one second left to live — as a complete human, or at least a sane person, to be precise.
He opened his mouth and, with a grin, spoke, "Black Cell override."
With that, his world went black, and Tyrion was instantly dismembered in the next second.
He was dead, and so was all of humanity.
---
Cold... It was cold...
Why was it so cold?
A pair of blue eyes opened up slowly, and in an instant, the blurry gaze became clear almost immediately.
'Did it work?' he asked himself.
'Did the Black Cell actually send me back in time?'
Tyrion turned his head slowly to his left, then his right, scanning his surroundings to see where he was — and also, to confirm when.
There was the cold, blistering snow everywhere, painting the world in a peaceful white radiance.
He, in particular, was lying in what seemed like an abandoned alleyway, bathed with trash, garbage of all manners, and most importantly, discarded tech.
'It's familiar,' he established to himself, sitting upright to get a better view of things before jumping to conclusions. It was as he recalled it — this was an alleyway he commonly visited to take remains of used technology and parts, mainly to repair them and sell them back at a price high enough to guarantee his everyday meal.
But that wasn't what mattered, however...
"It worked, it really did." Tyrion, who was on the floor, exclaimed in joy.
'I successfully transferred my consciousness back in time to my younger self.' Tyrion had a sickening look in his eyes and a sly smirk that later faded into grim despair at the cost of his second chance at life.
This was the twenty-second century, and humanity had migrated from the era of AI to CI.
CI, in full, was Cell Intelligence — a phenomenon that was placed into the bodies of all humans. It was like the chips placed into human brains during the era of AI; however, instead of a physical chip that risked being damaged or tearing brain tissues, CI was different.
It was the term — making every cell in the human body intelligent.
That was one thing that had begun the idea between the two — Tyrion and Ben.
If the mutants were unable to be defeated with their current knowledge and time, what if time travel was possible? That was the question here.
But to make time travel with physical flesh required a lot of power and time, which the two did not have on their side.
But what if they could send the neuro files, brain experience, and all the memories gained of their future selves back to the past — through Cell Intelligence?
That way, it did not require a large source of power, and with the little time they possessed, it could be achieved.
That was the purpose that had created the Black Cell project.
And thanks to the Black Cell, he was still alive — back right before the apocalypse started.
Tyrion sighed. 'This time, the battle between humans and mutants — I will become the turning point that assures our victory.'