After getting out of the fountain, Alen wrung the water from his clothes and then carefully dried Momo, who was shaking his fur like a drenched towel.
They walked for a while, damp footprints fading behind them, until they exited the garden. That's when Alen realized—the garden they'd landed in was actually inside a university campus.
A massive university.
It was so large that this serene, abandoned garden had probably gone unnoticed for years. Alen stepped onto the cobblestone paths and was immediately immersed in the bustling energy of youth. Dozens—no, hundreds—of students passed by.
The colors they wore shimmered under the sunlight—vivid blues, shimmering golds, deep crimsons. Their hairstyles twisted into shapes Alen had never seen before. Their jewelry sparkled with crystals he couldn't identify. Even their shoes looked like something out of a futuristic art gallery.
He adjusted his helmet, blinking in awe.
"Wow, Momo… look at them. They don't wear dull shades like we do. Is this… the future city?" His voice was hushed with wonder. "It's my first time seeing a place like this."
From inside the bag, Momo fumbled softly, peeking through the two small holes Alen had cut near the fabric. His eyes sparkled in agreement.
"Good! Don't talk. We need to stay hidden. Let's start finding some clues."
Alen walked over to a nearby fence. It was taller than it looked. He struggled, grunting and panting, pulling himself up like a soldier on his first day of basic training. The students nearby began to slow down, their gazes curious.
'Do not get noticed. Blend in. Be invisible,' Alen repeated like a mantra.
Unfortunately, a guy in a military-like uniform dangling awkwardly off a fence wasn't exactly subtle.
"Hey, look at him. Is he doing cosplay?"
"Maybe he's from the army?"
"Oh, stop. If he was military, he wouldn't advertise it so openly. And look at him—he's flailing like a squirrel. No way."
Even though the whispers were hushed, Alen heard every word. His face fell. He finally rolled off the fence and gasped for air.
"Finally."
Brushing off his uniform, he took out a small device that looked like a sleek, silver mobile with a floating holographic screen.
"Alright. Let's begin the investigation."
He activated the Temporal Energy Detector and started scanning the surroundings.
"Nothing here... nothing here either… ah—nope."
He scanned bushes. He scanned benches. He even scanned a confused squirrel.
To the students, he now looked like a kid on an Easter egg hunt, chasing invisible treasure. Curious onlookers began to gather. Some watched from windows. Others followed him as he weaved between buildings.
But Alen remained in his own world.
"Ugh, still nothing?" He groaned and collapsed under a tree.
That's when everything changed.
Up until now, he'd only drawn odd glances. But the moment he took off his helmet, letting his white hair spill down, revealing his golden eyes and sharply sculpted features—it was like someone had hit pause on reality.
The crowd around him collectively inhaled.
Then came the swarm.
Within seconds, he was surrounded by dozens of girls, their voices blending into a tidal wave of excitement.
"Hey, what's your name?!"
"Are you single?"
"Can I have your phone number?"
"I love cats—do you have one in your bag?!"
Alen clutched his bag protectively and stood up, trying not to panic. He was slightly taller than the average student here—taller than even the boys, many of whom now glared at him while cracking their knuckles.
"Please date me!"
"No, me!"
"Nooo, me—I'm prettier than her!"
As he stood frozen, desperately searching for an exit strategy, a sharp red pulse appeared on his Temporal Energy Detector.
A signal.
"Finally!" Alen exclaimed, eyes getting cold up.
He turned, pushing through the squealing crowd, his eyes locked on the glowing red dot on the screen.
"It's coming from… there."
His gaze landed on a sleek, black car pulling up to the university gate.
Alen's eyes narrowed at the vehicle.
"Wait a second… is that—" He squinted. "The unknown lowest model of the Light-Bike AZ03? No way… How did this civilization get their hands on our tech?"
He walked closer, inspecting the car with an intrigued frown. "Hah. But even if they did—" he smirked—"it would take them trillions of years to reach even 1% of our tech. Poor things."
As the car parked, a man in a crisp, well-fitted suit stepped out. His hair was combed perfectly, and his gait was calm and powerful. Girls nearby gasped, and a few even fainted at the sight of him.
Alen's face immediately went blank, a cold stillness creeping into his expression. A shiver passed through the remaining girls around him, the rest leave behind that man.
"Who is he?" Alen asked, voice low and cutting.
"U-Um, that's Professor Karl…" one girl replied hesitantly. "He is our Physics's professor."
Alen's golden eyes followed Karl as he walked into the campus.
'A professor of Physics, huh?'
A large banner fluttered over the university gates, catching Alen's attention.
PHYSICS FESTIVAL
Without a word, Alen slipped his device into the bag, secured Momo, and headed inside the university building. Compared to the multilevel, dimension-phasing megastructures of his own world, this campus was humble—but it had its own quaint charm.
He walked alongside the students, blending into the sea of laughter, whispers, and energy. Eventually, he found himself in the main auditorium. He picked a seat off to the side, near the back, hoping to avoid further attention. Gently placing his bag on the seat next to him, he whispered to Momo through the cloth:
"No sound, furball. We'll be out of here soon."
"Momo," came a faint rumble from inside the bag.
Alen sat up straight, legs crossed, arms folded. His composure drew a few curious glances. Beside him, an elderly woman with cloud-white hair chuckled.
"You've got hair just like me," she teased with a toothy grin.
Alen's stoic mask cracked ever so slightly. Without looking at her, he muttered, "Mine's natural. Yours… came with age. Don't compare."
"Hohoho!" she laughed heartily, patting his hand. "You kids are wild these days. And how'd you get so tall, huh?"
Alen sighed, his tone dry. "I'm not tall. Your generation is shrinking. Genetic regression, maybe."
The woman laughed even harder, clearly delighted. Alen sighed inwardly.
'Why am I teaching evolutionary biology to a stranger?'
Still, the woman kept chatting—asking about his health, diet, interests, and even his "terrible taste in fashion." Alen deflected and dodged as best he could, revealing as little as possible.
On stage, students were presenting their projects—each greeted with applause and laughter. Alen found himself quietly appreciating their creativity. Sure, their inventions were primitive, but there was heart in them.
One student presented an automatic bread-making machine.
Another showed off a cat-proof pillow.
A third had a shelf that could scan books and read them aloud in a soothing voice.
'Crude... but clever. They're trying.'
He leaned back, watching the presentations until a voice beside him whispered, "Isn't Professor Karl supposed to speak today?"
Alen's ears perked up.
And right on cue, the suited man from earlier stepped onto the stage. The applause was thunderous. Alen sat up straighter, his golden eyes narrowing with intent.
The old woman beside him faded from his awareness. So did the murmurs, the laughter, the ambient noise of the auditorium. All of it melted away as Karl began to speak.
"Hello everyone," Professor Karl's voice echoed through the auditorium. "I'm delighted to see the brilliant inventions you've all showcased. Now, allow me to speak on a topic I find deeply fascinating."
He paused. The silence in the room was sharp.
"The Multiverse."
A ripple of murmurs passed through the crowd, but Alen remained still—completely focused.
"The Multiverse is the idea that our universe—everything we can see and experience—might be just one of many," Karl explained. "Imagine our universe is like a bubble. The theory says there could be countless other bubbles, each its own universe."
The room hung on his words.
"These other universes might have:
— Different laws of physics,
— Different timelines and histories,
— Even different versions of you."
His smile was calm, practiced. Too calm.
"It's like a TV with infinite channels. You're watching one—our universe. But the others are playing at the same time, invisible to us."
"Or imagine pages in a book," he continued. "Each page tells a different story. All are part of the same volume—the multiverse. But each one exists on its own, unaware of the others."
Alen's heartbeat quickened.
"And is it real?" Karl asked, lifting a brow. "Well, science hasn't proven it. But certain theories suggest... it just might be."
Beep.
A piercing alarm burst from Alen's bag, it seemed it has been reacting to the theory Karl just explained. It vibrated violently, the light on the device pulsing in deep red line being created from the main blue line.
Every head turned.
Alen's eyes dropped to the Temporal Detector.
WARNING: A MAJOR BRANCH IN THE TIMELINE IS BEING CREATED.
WARNING: REALITY DISTORTION IN PROGRESS.
WARNING: MASSIVE TEMPORAL ENERGY DETECTED.
Alen shot up, chair scraping loudly behind him.
On the stage, Professor Karl was already stepping down—calmly, too calmly—heading toward the back exit with swift, deliberate steps.
"He's leaving!" Alen hissed. "let's go!"
He grabbed his bag and darted down the aisle, pushing through the crowd. Students murmured, confused. The old woman called after him, but he didn't hear.
Karl disappeared down the hallway, his stride purposeful. Alen surged forward, closing the distance—
Thud. Thud. Thud.
A sudden thunder of boots echoed behind him. In seconds, a squad of armored guards stormed into the corridor, boots striking the floor in synchronized force.
Alen turned just in time to see their weapons raised.
A sharp electric jolt shot into his neck.
His body seized—but not fully. His nerves resisted.
"Gh—!" Alen staggered backward, bumping into a group of students. His bag slipped from his shoulder.
"No!" he gasped, reaching out.
Before he could grab it, a cold needle jabbed into his neck. Just a prick.
It barely hurt.
But the moment the serum hit his bloodstream, his muscles went numb. His vision blurred. His knees buckled.
With a thud, Alen collapsed, his golden eyes wide and flickering.
"My bag..." he whispered faintly, breath catching—
Then darkness.
Screams erupted. Students shouted in panic, some running, some frozen in place. Chaos threatened to consume the hall.
But the guards were efficient.
With silent precision, they formed a perimeter. The noise was silenced, the students pushed back, pacified. Trained hands zipped Alen's unconscious body into a containment bag—his helmet clinking quietly against his arm.
"Yeah, we've got him," one of the soldiers muttered into his comms. "Don't worry. We didn't injure him. He's safe."
With chilling efficiency, the team carried him out of the university building.
Unseen. Unstoppable.
Unaware, perhaps, of the anomaly they had just captured—
—and the storm it would bring.