I awoke.


    Or at least, I think I did.


    After what felt like an eternal slumber, drifting endlessly toward the singularity, I was suddenly here. Alive. As if no time had passed at all.


    But it had. I remembered.


    I remembered the collapse and rebirth of everything.


    And now, as I sit in the Oval Office—yes, the Oval Office—staring at none other than President A. Cole, I can’t help but wonder:


    What the fuck is going on?


    President A. Cole—the second-ever Black president after Obama—stood before me, his presence both imposing and surreal. He wasn’t just a leader; he was the leader. An individual who rewrote history with his sheer influence.


    Born from seemingly thin air, he emerged in 2032, founding his own independent political party. Within weeks, he swept the nation, securing an unprecedented 75% of the vote. A feat never before achieved by any president, let alone an individual running outside the two-party system.


    And yet, in 2036, his reelection numbers soared even higher—90% monopoly. Unheard of. Impossible. Yet, he had done it.


    Because A. Cole did the impossible.


    In just eight years, he united a fractured America—a nation on the brink of collapse, poisoned by its own polarization. He bridged the unbridgeable, pleasing both sides of the political spectrum, defying expectations. Democrats. Republicans. Independents. It didn’t matter. They all bent to him.


    Some people called him the second coming of Christ—not just a man, but a savior. A foolish belief? Maybe. But how else do you explain what he did?


    <ul>


    <li>The Ukrainian war—solved.</li>


    <li>The Middle East conflict—de-escalated.</li>


    <li>The fractured EU—unified under a single economic and defense policy.</li>


    <li>He ended poverty in nearly every third-world country through direct economic reform.</li>


    <li>He forged the first true international alliance between the West and the East, aligning Europe, Asia, and Africa under common diplomatic agreements.</li>


    </ul>


    World peace? Not yet. But it was closer than ever before.


    And now, this man—this legend—stood before me, his sharp brown eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that could strip a man of his soul.


    “#326.” His voice was steady, calculated. “You’re awake.”


    Awake?


    Was I asleep? Was I dreaming?


    I looked down at myself—a body I wasn’t sure even existed minutes ago. My hospital gown was gone, replaced by a black tactical jumpsuit, sleek and unfamiliar. There was a weight on my wrists and ankles—thin, metallic bands emitting a faint hum of energy.


    My head throbbed.


    What… what was happening?


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    The last thing I remembered was—the white hole. The Tower Realm.


    The birth of new worlds.


    I inhaled sharply. The air felt different. Thicker. More… potent.


    I wasn’t in the same Earth I had once known.


    Cole didn’t blink, watching me closely, as if studying a ticking bomb.


    "You knew, didn’t you?" His voice was quieter this time. “You predicted this years ago.”


    I exhaled, my lips curling into something between a smirk and a grimace.


    “Told you so.”


    The tension in the room thickened.


    Behind him, his top advisors stood like statues, men and women in dark suits with expressions frozen somewhere between fear and confusion. I spotted military generals, intelligence directors, and scientific experts, all silent. All waiting.


    A large monitor flickered to life behind them, displaying live global feeds.


    I felt it before I even saw the images.


    My stomach twisted.


    The world…


    It was different.


    The Earth I knew no longer existed.


    I stepped forward, my feet making no sound against the polished floor. My eyes darted between the screens, taking in the unreal new reality.


    The skies were no longer blue—they shimmered with violet hues, streaked with faint silver cracks, as if the very fabric of the universe had been stretched too thin.


    The oceans churned differently, their tides influenced by an unseen force. The moon, still suspended in the sky, now radiated an eerie purple glow, its surface scarred by new, unexplained craters.


    And then, the planets…


    Hundreds of them, orbiting around the new colossal sun.


    A titanic star, unlike anything in our old universe, radiated an intense golden light, and surrounding it were ten distinct orbital rings.


    Each ring was occupied by dozens, maybe hundreds, of planets.


    Earth and the other nine newly birthed worlds were locked in the innermost ring.


    Each celestial body was unique, some glowing with ethereal light, others engulfed in swirling storms. Some appeared mechanical, as if forged rather than formed.


    My breath hitched as the camera feeds zoomed in, revealing foreign landscapes, alien structures, and—inhabitants.


    Not just humans.


    There were beings unlike anything we had ever encountered.


    Creatures that looked almost human—but weren’t. Others were entirely monstrous, towering giants, slender figures with elongated limbs, creatures that flickered between solid and ethereal.


    And our old home?


    Gone.


    The Sun we had known, the constellations that had guided human civilization for millennia—all erased.


    I clenched my fists.


    As if the universe itself had rewritten its rules.


    But that wasn’t even the worst part.


    The laws of physics had shifted.


    At first, things seemed normal—gravity still held, objects moved as expected. But then came the anomalies.


    This new energy—whatever it was—disrupted everything.


    Electronics failed. Signals cut in and out. Even the most basic scientific readings made no sense.


    I had experienced it firsthand.


    Before the black hole consumed the Earth, I had internet access.


    You might not believe it, but yes, even a locked-up psychiatric patient like me had a phone and a PC.


    The government scientists running their inhumane tests on me weren’t complete maniacs. They treated me well enough, at least within the confines of my gilded cage.


    I wasn’t allowed outside. But the internet was my window to the world.


    And yet, when I had immediately searched for others who had witnessed what I had seen in the eternal abyss, I had found nothing.


    No one else seemed to remember the infinite time spent drifting toward the singularity. No one recalled the collapse and rebirth of existence.


    They all spoke of the black hole consuming everything, then waking up here, as if no time had passed at all.


    But I remembered.


    I remembered everything.


    And as I turned back to Cole, his expression unreadable, I realized…


    I wasn’t supposed to.


    I exhaled, my mind catching up to the gravity of it all.


    I turned back to Cole, meeting his gaze once more.


    His gaze hardened.


    I smirked.


    “This isn’t our world anymore,” I muttered. “And if you think you can control it like you did before… you’re dead wrong.”


    For the first time since I had woken up in this room, Cole’s mask of control faltered.


    Because we both knew the truth.


    This was no longer humanity’s dominion.


    It belonged to something else.


    Something that had been waiting.


    And it had finally begun.