You were chosen for a future you would never remember reaching.

A one-way journey. A hundred years in cryogenic suspension. No time. No dreams. No interruptions.

That was the contract.

That was the certainty.

But the last day before departure... was not as controlled as the rest.

There was tension among the selected. Anxiety. Final goodbyes. People trying to feel something real before giving up everything.

And in that moment — impulsive, fleeting, human — you crossed a line.

A brief encounter.

Someone else chosen for the same journey. Another colonist. A stranger... who wouldn’t stay a stranger for long.

It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t meant to matter.

And then came launch.

Cryosleep followed.

And now—

You are awake far too early.

The ship is still decades from arrival.

And your body has carried something through time that should have been impossible.