POV: Time Variance Authority

Back at the Office

Once back at MH Cosmetics, he headed straight to his workspace, retrieving the manuscript Professor West had marked up. Four or five red circles identified spots that might be erroneous or incomplete in the cryonics formulas.

He decided not to remain at the company that afternoon, opting to "daydream" once again—to enter his future world and correct those flawed chemical reactions in the library. There was another, more crucial matter to confirm, as well.

Now that West had solved the ice-crystal dilemma, it was only a matter of time before that news went public. From here onward, the flow of time and historical development would diverge from its original path, rewriting the future in tandem.

"If my earlier theory is right," Elias mused, "the future in my dream world should also shift in certain details. Just like how Koko Cat became 'Rhine Cat' after I introduced that name here in reality. The dream changed accordingly."

He paused at the window, gaze sweeping over the bustling city traffic below.

Originally, -ice crystals had been conquered only in the year 2477 by Dr. Mykson, winning him the nickname "Father of Cryonics." But now, thanks to Elias's intervention, Professor West had solved it as early as 2022. This was sure to rock that future timeline.

"Will Mykson still get to keep that title? Or will he be forced to share credit?" Elias let out a quiet chuckle.

"I suspect the dream's historical record has changed accordingly."

Outside, frigid winter winds rattled the steel-framed windows, as if echoing the massive shift Elias had triggered. In his mind's eye, he pictured a butterfly beating its wings—small but potent—capable of whipping up a raging storm in the river of time 600 years downstream.

***

Elias left the company, returned home, and grabbed a quick meal via delivery. Then he studied the red-circled errors one more time before collapsing onto his bed.

"Time to go," he said, rolling onto his side and shutting his eyes.

***

Whoosh!

The oppressive summer heat struck him instantly. Elias opened his eyes to a blazing midday sun, intense enough that beads of sweat instantly formed on his forehead.

Not wasting a moment, he sprinted to the bus stop. Soon, he was back at the towering library, making a beeline for the third-floor science section. After his previous visits, the route felt second nature.

Standing at the shelf where Dr. Mykson's book, An Analysis & Outlook on Cryonics Technology, once rested, he found… nothing.

"Gone," Elias murmured with a knowing smile.

If Professor West had cracked the ice-crystal problem in 2022, Mykson's role in 2477 would no longer exist in the same way. Indeed, the dream's timeline had changed to reflect West's contribution. Elias scanned thoroughly—no sign of Mykson's name or volume.

"So it's confirmed," he thought, exhaling relief. "This dream truly is the real future, 600 years from now. Everything I do in the present has the power to rewrite it."

That was both thrilling and unnerving. It also validated the presence of more ominous truths.

"So the TVA is real."

That clandestine organization had already existed in 2022, manipulating events across six centuries. The memory of that "invitation seal" from Ms. Harrington's letter hovered in his mind, a faint menace at the edges of his awareness.

Claw had insisted the TVA was a malevolent criminal organization. Their endgame? Their gatherings? The results of joining them—or refusing? Where did Ms. Harrington stand, and why would she even receive an invitation if she wasn't an obvious "influential" or "major player"?

So many questions. The TVA was a shadowy enigma, more sinister with every passing thought. Elias felt its hidden hand might be reaching from centuries away to drag him into a dark abyss.

Still, there was no time for that now. Mykson's book had vanished, so the records must have changed. He trusted someone else would appear in future references to fill that old role. Science would soldier on, no matter whose name crowned the pedestal.

Stepping away from the empty shelf, Elias headed downstairs to the first-floor public computers. He typed into the search bar: "How far has cryonics tech advanced now?", then hit enter.

The outdated machine chugged, antivirus pop-ups warring at the screen's corner. Eventually, a result popped up:

"To this day, a functioning human cryonics chamber still remains out of reach. The only major breakthrough was around 2200, when Dr. Gerald Wynn successfully invented a fill-liquid for winter-sleep. However, no further milestones appeared in the centuries since, leaving the field stalled."

"So no final success," Elias noted. "No surprise, since the formula West has was incomplete. The effect on that timeline is smaller, just shifting the credited inventor from Mykson to Gerald Wynn."

He smirked to himself, imagining how each new "stolen" or "acquired" piece of the puzzle would push West's achievement further. Each incremental step might keep shifting the "Father of Cryonics" mantle until it landed squarely on West's shoulders.

"When that day comes— he mused, the 2624 I see in my dream might look drastically more advanced. Will it be starships? Interplanetary travel? A brand-new cosmic wonder?"

He inhaled, enthralled by the possibilities. "Then my dream world would be even more fascinating."