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In the heart of a post-apocalyptic city, Spacelunch was making his way through the ruins, wearing a heavy armour of metal plates and flickering circuitry. Cat settled on his shoulder, listening intently to every sound. This time, they weren't just looking for an artefact — their target was the Singularity Echo, a mysterious device created right before the catastrophe. Legend had it that the scientists of the past, sensing the impending collapse, had put all their accumulated experience and knowledge together to create it. It was said that one day “Echo” would awaken and allow descendants to touch the wisdom of the ancients, learn the secrets of forgotten technologies and, perhaps, avoid the fatal mistakes of the past.

— We’ve been wandering around for how long? — muttered Cat, looking around warily. — And nothing.

— Sitting up there complaining, aren’t you? — Spacelunch grinned, deftly bypassing the debris and intertwined roots that poked out from under the asphalt.



Suddenly, a glow flashed before them, gradually taking the form of a palm-sized transparent crystal. It floated in the air, surrounded by silver lining that wove into intricate patterns, like a network of ancient runes. The symbols on its facets, flickering, cast soft reflections on the debris around them. As the professor slowly reached out his hand, the crystal shone brighter, and the low whisper of distant voices cut through the silence. Their minds were enveloped by the echoes of past events, filling their minds with images of the vanished world.

The friends froze for a moment, overwhelmed by shock and a sense of profound change.

— Well, — said Cat, not hiding his surprise. — It seems we've gotten a little smarter.

— A little? Now we have what has been lost for an era.

— So, we have a new adventure ahead of us. Where do we start?

The ghost town, once seemingly lifeless, now seemed to come to life: every collapsed building and every corner sparked with traces and clues as if the world itself was holding its breath, waiting for a sign.

The black and white hoverbike flew out of the fog at breakneck speed and raced through the neon-lit urban jungle of the Havan metropolis. It manoeuvred steadily between the skyscrapers, trying to throw off the tail of the corporal's convoy, which was getting closer by the moment, preventing it from sneaking away with the seemingly easy-to-get Zero-G prototype. This weapon could create an anti-gravity field with a single shot and disable even the largest battle cruiser. That's why an elite squad of cyber-soldiers equipped with modified implants and gadgets was sent in pursuit not to allow them to ease off for a second.


With a sharp steering wheel jerk, Spacelunch turned off the main street and into a narrow alley. "Your turn!" – He shouted insistently over the engine's roar. Cat rose from the back seat, took aim, and deftly fired his blaster. In a pall of sparks and smoke, the pursuer's hoverbike spun out of control and crashed into the building. Gritting their teeth, the friends raced through the winding maze of obstacles and tight turns. All senses were heightened with excitement. They could see a gap ahead and a way out into the slums.


Suddenly, a heavily armed police drone blocked the road, aiming its red gun lights at them. Spacelunch decisively grabbed Cat and jumped into the so-fortunately spotted sewer manhole, barely managing to dodge the gunfire barrage. After landing in a pitch-dark narrow tunnel, they moved on, with every step feeling the growing tension in the air and realizing that they could be found out at any moment. The darkness seemed endless. The only consolation was that they had the prototype in their hands, and now all they had to do was get to the spaceship and get off this freaking planet.

Logbook. Exploration mission.

Day 1. The planet is dead. An anomaly is detected — the time flow is slightly distorted.
Day 2. Landed in the central crater. The clocks of our suits show different times from the clocks on the ship. The gap is increasing.
Day 4. Logs contain records of events that never happened. A report of tomorrow’s evacuation appeared in the system. No one wrote it.
Day 5. We found footprints leading from the landing site to the crater, identical to ours. The ship log was discovered nearby. Final entry: “Do not enter the crater.”

Log transmission terminated. The crew did not reestablish contact.

The landscapes of Orlan 19 resembled the dream of a mad cartographer: cliffs were floating above the surface, horizons were bending and vanishing into infinity, and energy vortices were flaring up beneath their feet in psychedelic patterns. The familiar laws of physics didn’t apply here — gravity shifted chaotically, and time flew with unpredictable intensity. As Spacelunch, absorbed in thought, stroked the ground which distorted like a mirage under his touch, Cat’s grumbling echoed simultaneously from the past and future:

— Doc, don’t you think we’re just walking in circles?
— No wonder. That’s how inverse modelling works. Every action we take reshapes the surrounding space.
— Can you explain it in simpler terms? There’s only one genius here.
— Ever heard of the Philadelphia Experiment?
— Of course! You know how much I love sushi rolls!
— Well, I set myself up for this predicament… Back in my university days, we experimented with magnetic fields trying to program them by thought. You get where I’m going, don’t you? The planet is reacting to our intentions. So, focus on visualizing the portal.

The confusion on Cat’s face gave way to a mask of detachment. Clusters of matter began to tremble pulling the threads of reality to their breaking point before finally forming a vortex. Having devoured as much as it could, the vortex snapped shut with a loud pop and dissolved in a blinding flash.

As the scene began to take shape, silhouettes emerged under the soft glow of a desk lamp, evoking an overwhelming sense of nostalgia. A worn desk and a small bed stood by the wall adorned with faded photographs, while the floor let out a gentle creak underfoot. The clearer the interior came to be, the more paralyzing the realization, and the more elusive the explanation for what had happened became.

— Holy…! Cat, are we looking at the same thing?
— Yeah, but… This can’t be real.

Spacelunch slowly approached the window and froze still. A single thought raced through his mind: “The only force strong enough to pull me this far… was love.”

In 2045, researchers at MindTech discovered an anomaly in neural networks used for direct data transmission into the human brain. They called this phenomenon “Phantom Scripts” — mysterious glitches in the code that activate when a person falls asleep or closes their eyes. Deprived of visual stimuli, the brain becomes more receptive and starts responding to internal impulses from the neuro-interface, generating unexpected images and phrases, as if creating messages from the void.

Analysis revealed that these scripts are particularly active during deep sleep or meditation, when the mind is most vulnerable to external influence, as though an intelligent force is attempting to communicate through the subconscious. What lies behind these messages and why they appear remains unknown. Perhaps the answers are hidden in the darkness itself.

"The warmth of fire and the whisper of water, the magic of wind and the trembling of the earth, the melody of peace and silence to revive soul and body" – said the Queen and closed the portal behind the travellers.

On the summit of the Astral Cliff there was the long-forgotten DP-6 shuttlecraft of the Kwansi pirates. Corrosion on the hull plating had almost completely taken over the paint, which only occasionally peeked through between dense clusters of fluorescent bryophytes. The vines and wires dangling from the stern provided a perfect living dome for the lively Sivinerian millipedes goofing around on the runes engraved on the ship. The sweet scent of exotic flora created an ethereal glow. A giant stingray floated gracefully across the celestial kaleidoscope. Each flap of its shining wings gave the impression of time slowing down. One could be absorbed by this grace and lightness for hours, immersing oneself in the world of aesthetics and harmony that ufolded before the observers’ eyes while they were enveloped in the calming embrace of the gravitational massage chairs.

– Sea Devil – what an appropriate name for such a majestic creature.
– That's right, Cat... A true manifestation of multielements in all their splendour!

– Meow, Doc! Are you serious?!
– Hopefully, now we'll be able to program the cognitive processes of different creatures.
– The intranasal mutagen?
– With consciousness, too!

Spacelunch devoted all of his spare time to developing the virus. Once in the body, its molecules activate: they replace the configuration of neurotransmitters and start evolving independently. A small dosage of vapours reactivates brain navigation, whereas readings are taken from a nano-oscilloscope and sent to a tablet for further analysis. Augmented reality has long gone beyond virtuality, ladies and gentlemen!

The simulation of the collective mind has undergone a series of public tests initiated by enthusiasts from the Venus Biomolecular Institute. After a data leak from the lab's journal, the dangerous technology could have fallen into the hands of Aerospace Corporation, but luckily was intercepted by the Meta-Warp operational unit. Putting the development on pause, they shut down access to any information about the project. It remained unexplored, but the Professor's inquisitive mind wanted to understand the discovery that could change the future.