1 To the past

Time.

What is time?

What comes to your mind when I say the word "Time"? Have we truly grasped the concept of time? Is this "time" for salvation or destruction of humanity? Is time infinite? Will time continue after the end of humanity?

What if a person could control time to his will? Manipulate it. Perhaps even change things that happened. Or yet to happen.

What if this power were to happen in the hands of bad people?

Even, how do we know a person is bad? By their looks? The way they dress? Or how they speak?

Is it possible for a person to do bad things for good reasons? Or good things, for a bad reason.

What will you do, if you could manipulate time?

…

1836.

Department H.

"After a shedload of investigation, we, the people, sentence Agent Storm 01 to death by electrocution as written in the 1000 law of order, for the murder of the Prime and Chief. May the one above all, have mercy on your soul."

The court was observed by a lot of people. By those inside the court, and those watching the live broadcast at their respective houses down at Winter Weir.

Storm 01 turned to look at an elderly woman who stood behind the people, with her hand in the pocket of her coat. She smile and whispered something in the ear of the man standing next to her.

A group of armed agents grabbed him and pulled him down the stage to lead him to the execution room. Around his hand was a handcuff designed specifically for him.

He looked around the stage. The eyes of people he previously knew, peeled into him. He now realized what he from his earlier years was telling him. He looked back to the person behind him. She slightly nod before nudging him forward with the laser gun she was holding.

The moment made him wonder what would have happened to him if he had listened, and not run to the shop like he was warned not to. Will he still be living miserably with his father? Or perhaps, he would get a job at the Quantum Realm Corp, like he used to dream of.

Just as they took a corner, he was stopped by one of his former comrades, Storm 05. He smiled, looking him up and down. "If it's not the mighty Storm 01. Oh, how I've longed for this day."

Storm 05 inched closer, wiping the agent's shoulder with his hand. "Are you happy?" He questioned. "Because of you, she's dead. Every fucking time, it's always about you. But you never gave her time, you never even looked at her, why did she even like you, just why?"

Storm 05 meets his face with a series of punches until Storm 01 was bleeding from his nose. He then spat on his face before walking away.

The agents pushed him to keep walking. The moment Storm 05 was out of sight, the agent behind the prisoner shot down all the other agents. She took off her helmet to reveal her face.

"Sox?"

She does not answer. She searched the dead agents and took out a key to unlock the handcuff around his hand.

He looked at her. "You could get killed for this."

After unlocking the handcuff, she pulled his face and kissed him aggressively. She then pulled back and looked him in the eyes. "Go, I'll take care of things here."

He was shocked. The whole moment in time kept him dumbfounded. She pushed him to run away. Just as he started running, he heard the battle cry and footsteps of the other agents approaching.

He ran to a glass box where the emergency mask was kept, next to the exit of the ship. Department H is a huge spaceship, hovering over Winter Weir. He put on the mask and pushed a button to open it.

As he looked outside, all he saw was infinity. His heart started racing. He wasn't even sure if this will work. If it doesn't, it'll be his doom. But he has to try, because staying back, will also be his doom.

He looked back and saw the agents approaching fast. He turned back, inhaled, and exhaled before jumping off.

…

1826.

Zoda, Winter Weir.

The planet, Winter Weir is the home of the Weirs. Divided into three parts it was: The Underground, Zoda, and the Realm. The realm is for the wealthy, not just any type of wealthy, crazy wealthy, and the underground is for the broken, the poor.

After the recently failed uprising, the leaders banned the rampant travel between regions. It is only allowed after long soul and body-wearing procedures. This made it impossible for people to leave their region.

A boy in a blue hoodie and black trousers with a bag strapped around his shoulders quickly ran into a house and closed the door shut, breathing heavily, he rest his back on the door, breathing heavily while he listened to his pursuers retreat. He exhaled heavily before throwing his bag on the floor. The moment he entered the sitting room, he covered his nose as the sting of alcohol slam him.

"Dad?" He mumbled.

He looked around the room and saw his father completely wasted on one of the couches with bottles of alcohol around him. It wasn't the first time, and he believes it won't be the last, but he hasn't gotten used to it. Every time it affects him differently. He had tried talking his father out of it, but every time he did, he gets a scoff and a tap on the shoulder.

"Hey boy. You back already?"

He shrugged off his father's words and took off his hoodie while speaking. "I got laughed at again at school," he stated.

"For what reason?" His father asked.

He sat on a chair and picked up a knife and an apple that was on the table. "Same old."

His father hissed and turned to the other side, knocking down a bottle as he did.

"I'll come over one day and smack some sense into their ass," he uttered. "Coco is surely a cool surname."

The young Coco shook his head. His father had mentioned those words before and he knew they were just words. He probably won't recall the conversation they just had.

"Why did I even bother?… What a mess," He muttered under his breath.

"Did you say something?" He yelled. "How about you go out and play with some of your friends' boy!"

He rolled his eyes and made his way out of the house with the knife, and threw the remaining apple into his mouth. He gazed at the bustling streets of Zoda. He then looked up as three spaceships flew over his house. They were the resource collection ships of the Quantum Realm Corp. An industry in the Realm that makes all the technology of Winter Weir. They travel even to the underground to collect scraps and they contribute largely to the production of equipment for Department H.

He smiled as he imagined himself driving the ship. Since he was smart enough to learn about the Quantum Realm Corp. He had always dreamt of working there as a pilot. But like the word, he can only dream of it.

BOOM!

He jolts as he heard an explosive noise from his backyard. He turned in that direction and walk towards it, putting the knife in his pocket. Slowly, the dust cleared, and he noticed a figure in it. A man in space gear walked out to the open and took off his helmet. The boy recognized the uniform. It was like that of the troopers of Department H.

"Finally," the man said while letting out a sigh.

"Wh-who are you?" He stuttered.

The man stayed silent to catch his breath before speaking. "You won't believe me if I tell you."

…