When light faded, I expected to see stars.
Instead, neon greeted me.
The air smelled of rain and fumes. A thousand voices spoke at once—traffic, laughter, and music from unrecognizable machines.
We were back on Earth.
But everything felt wrong.
Arina's calm voice chimed in my ear. "Temporal discrepancy confirmed. Host, two hundred and seventy‑nine years have passed in planetary time. Human civilization is unrecognizable advanced. Your previous records are null."
I blinked hard. "Then the world forgot me."
Vira looked around with wide eyes at the glowing towers. "So this is the mortal world you once called home?"
Lei Mira's lightning crackled faintly at her fingertips, bouncing off high‑voltage wires. "Their cities hum with static—they've built lightning in cages."
Medusa pushed her hood lower, wary of surveillance drones. "Strange… they worship light without knowing it could burn."
Our powers felt restrained.
The air was thinner, duller, and starved of spiritual essence. When I tried to summon the Veil, it flickered weakly at my wrist like a dying candle.
Arina explained, "Earth's energy density is 0.003 of Noctyra's. Power systems were accordingly restricted. Though reduced, your cores remain unmatched by any local human capacity."
Vira smirked. "So we're powerless gods."
"Still the strongest on this planet," I said.
We needed shelter and information. The city skyline glowed ahead—a sea of silver steel and holographic banners. I knew only one place to start.
"Professor Thornwood," I whispered.
He'd been my mentor, my godfather, the man who raised me after I came to Earth the first time.
If he was still alive—though time had warped—his legacy had to remain somewhere.
Tracing academic archives, Arina projected a map in front of us. "Thornwood Institute of Temporal Physics—founded in your professor's name two centuries ago."
So his ideas had survived. Maybe… so had he.
Lei Mira smiled faintly. "Then our path's set, Draven."
I nodded. "Let's visit the future he built."
The university grounds stretched like a city on their own—vast, glittering, and alive with drones and hologram students walking side by side.
The moment we stepped on campus, the three women drew every look possible.
Vira's hair glowed faintly like living fire under sunlight.
Medusa's silver eyes caught reflections that twisted lenses in passing cameras.
Lei Mira muttered, "You never told us your world loved staring this much."
"They don't see women like you every day," I whispered.
At the Institute entrance, a gate AI scanned our faces. "Identity required."
Arina hijacked the signal. "Bypassing protocol… done."
Inside, the halls smelled of polished steel. Posters hung of Professor Thornwood—older, kind‑eyed, immortalized in image if not in person.
A young researcher approached us, startled. "You look exactly like—wait… are you Mukul Draven? That's impossible!"
"I'm looking for Professor Thornwood," I said carefully. "Alive or recorded."
He hesitated. "There's a sealed repository below the faculty wing. It opens only to his biometric code—or… his last registered pupil."
That meant me.
We descended through security doors until an old lab opened before us—dust, papers, and mechanical gears.
And in the center stood a cryopod glowing softly.
My throat locked.
"Professor…" I whispered.
The pod hissed open. The old man blinked awake slowly, grey beard glinting with frost. A smile tugged his lips.
"You came back, boy."
I knelt beside him, fighting tears. "You waited two centuries…"
"For a promise I never stopped believing in," he whispered. "You always said you'd return with proof."
I pointed at the three behind me. "Professor… this is Vira, Lei Mira, and Medusa. My companions—and my wives."
His eyes widened, then softened. "Three?" He chuckled faintly. "You were always an overachiever."
Vira bowed politely. "He earned us the hard way, sir."
Lei Mira crossed her arms. "Mostly through stubbornness."
Even Medusa smiled. "And kindness, which none of us deserved."
The professor laughed—a shaky sound that filled the room with warmth. "You turned myths into truth, my boy." Then he grew quiet, studying them again.
"They look at the world the way you once did—with wonder and fear and love. Take care of them. This planet will test them more than any realm."
"I know," I said. "But we'll adapt—like I did once."
Outside, the four of us stood before the glowing skyline.
"Strange," Vira murmured. "A world built without mana… yet filled with spirit."
Lei Mira watched cars stream below. "Their lightning has rhythm. I almost respect it."
Medusa smiled faintly. "Humans still chase light they don't understand. That's why they fascinate me."
Arina's voice hummed softly. "Host, mission adaptation pending. Maintain a low profile. Nexus Order traces detected in this timeline."
I frowned. "Even here… they found a way to survive."
The professor touched my shoulder gently. "Then you do what you always did, Mukul—learn their world, protect it, and don't lose the human in you."
That evening, I stood on the balcony of a small apartment he'd offered. The city glow reflected in the windows like artificial stars. Everywhere I looked, life moved—machines, drones, laughter. But above the noise lingered memory, alive again.
Vira joined me, flame hair soft in the wind. "Welcome home," she whispered.
For the first time, the word didn't hurt.
Earth had changed. But maybe it was ready to know me again.