Monday - October 22nd, 2121:

  My mind roiled with nausea as the grasped familiarity fought against the preconceived desire that this was all some fluke—some abhorrent abomination that pulled me far away from Earth and threw me into some alien galaxy beyond comprehension where the illogical was logical.

  Instead, what met me was the cold truth. A slap from reality so painful that all the wit in the world could not grasp the concept.

  I held firmly the staple foundation of Earth's advancements in the 2100s. Solon Corp's established means to solve all humanity's woes, filtering water resources from a finite trickle into an infinite stream, magnifying the dwindling food stocks into an abundance we could hardly believe, and offering all—the means to survive the overpopulated mess that the 21st century created in its early conception.

  "Feed Tubes," they called them.

  It was an almost laughably simple name for the most complex invention, which singlehandedly served dozens of functions and propelled scientific breakthroughs beyond what we ever believed possible.

  And now, here it was.

  Buried, yet not. Solon Corp's feed tubes projected from the ground, neglected and in disrepair. Peeling scabs of rust dotted the tubes' exterior, dulling their once glorious form. Glory, since when did I care for humanity's undertakings? But maybe seeing was believing; for now, I had clear, definitive proof that this was Earth. It was not home.

  'Is... all hope lost?' I thought as I soaked everything in, feeling the whiplash of hope and hopelessness.

  Before I could lose myself, a sudden strike pushed against the back of my suit, sending me onto the destitute feed tubes, paired with the croaking gurgle of the all-too-familiar raven.

  I grew increasingly tired of its constant interruptions. "What is it?" I asked sternly, my voice raised, the frustration evident as I stared at the spread-winged raven standing over me.

  It croaked, fluffing its throat hackles—a threat if I had ever seen one as those rubied eyes blazed with indecipherable emotion.

  "What? What do you want?" I blared, the intensity rising as I palmed a handful of soil and flung it in the bird's direction.

  The raven flapped its ruby-tipped wings with a fierce gust that slapped the soil away, and the beast lurched forward, pecking to the side of me.

  The bird's tantrum wasn't over as it latched its claws around my arms, picked me up off the feed tubes into the air, and flung me against a tree.

  It was stupid of me to forget just how massive the raven actually was compared to the ones I knew on Earth. The past was gone—only the present remained, and whatever god-forsaken future would follow it. I was stubbornly clinging to what was and ignoring what would be, and that had to stop.

  "I'm—sorry," I whispered, the words crawling out from the voice box like wisps of smoke. "You were trying—to keep me calm, weren't you?"

  My words resonated with it as the raven settled down and perched atop the feed tubes with its eyes glued to me. It bobbed its head from side to side, the transfixed stare a dreadful stab against my already distressed psyche. I wanted to be calm. I knew it wanted me calm. But how could I?

  'There has to be something-' My thoughts raced for a solution, an answer to a question I didn't even truly know, and then it came to me. Feed tubes were never without purpose; if there was a tube in the ground, there was a city it led to.

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  With that in mind, I shifted my gaze from one end to the other—the sleeping behemoth led back toward where I had come at the uncovered end, clearly the wrong side. So, I brushed my hands against the overgrowth that buried the tubes in obscurity, my gaze shifting between it and the watchful raven at my back.

  I repeated this.

  Many times.

  Until, finally, I moved my gaze to the raven, and—it vanished.

  I jolted, pausing my pursuit of the feed tube's direction, searching from left to right, but the white raven had disappeared as mysteriously as it had appeared.

  "Where'd you go?" I asked, the unsettlingness creeping into my mind.

  But, what answered was nothing but the still silence of a lifeless void that snuffed out the sound in the area. I slowed my breathing, settling down as I grasped at the overgrown brush that drowned the feed tubes.

  "Yes!" I muttered as I found the sol-joint that usually redirected the tube toward a city's subterranean divergence infrastructure.

  I turned back again, hopeful to see the raven despite not knowing why the feeling thrummed within my chest. But nothing. Leave it be. It's just a wild beast. You don't need its protection. You're capable enough yourself. The familiar voice of doubt gnawed at me, dissuading my unease and curiosity.

  "Forget it."

  I shed the burden and moved toward the presumed city, pushing against the overgrown brush and prickling sticks entwining around one another. With each step I took, soft clicks rang from the sticks, and I could see clusters of eyes blinking confusedly as they opened atop the surface.

  The now was just as god-forsaken as the future. The muddled thoughts couldn't stop me as I continued ahead as fast as my weighted steps could take me.

  And then.

  Finally, beneath the overgrown jungle of twisted hues and inexplicable life, I found the jutting skeletal remains of humanity.

  Once grand skyscrapers that towered over Earth's skies now lay in ruin, their fragmented shells creating a mountainous terrain of twisted metal and shattered glass. Rust-like patches of moss swallowed entire swaths of buildings, forming the backdrop of a painting called 'Humanity's Fall from Grace.'

  I could see the glory of the bustling cities, the SkyLift that carried us from place to place, and countless years of prosperity, now overcast by an unimaginable ruin. The past was gone. Earth was dead.

  Be that as it may be, I was still alive.

  No matter how monstrous this world was, there had to be something—some way to find survival and the truth beneath the surface.

  I slapped my hand to the scanner much harder than I needed to. As the glove and button met, I felt a twisting in my gut. Orion was a necessity: the missing piece to a far greater puzzle.

  [Access - Protocol Breach Identified - Anomalous Contact]

  [Orion Command Required. . . Head-]

  A static surge crackled to my dismay, and the robotic voice cut off mid-sentence. My chest heaved, rising and dropping with raspy breaths as I slapped my palm against the button like a child throwing a tantrum.

  "Come on!" I begged in a wispy whimper that chimed with a hollow aura from the voice projection box.

  "Dammit!" I cursed, voice louder than the circumstances would've asked for.

  I had to stop letting my emotions run rampant. My voice spread like an untamed horse, galloping across the destruction. Those jagged, uneven surfaces latched onto my voice, bouncing it off and magnifying it beyond reason until it spread beyond the horizon, and something stirred.

  A subtle tremor roiled through the underground akin to a beating heart, and I could see vivid green vines thrashing in the distance, approaching slowly as shards of glass flung through the air. It grew increasingly as it emerged from the wreckage until I could see a colossal bulbous growth of green blinding my sight, but what was worse was what sat atop it.

  A human.

  It was? Or was it not? I had no clue what my eyes were seeing through my visor. It was human. Or human-like.

  Long flowing hair extended beyond the already colossal growth, and a slender, naked form that looked neither male nor female was prominent as the bulbous part dragged itself toward me.

  The abomination parted its man-like lips, and a bestial screech thundered from its throat like a death wail that struck against my courage and deflated every shred of it.

  'I'm screwed,' I thought and ran, ignoring the fatigue and everything else.