Echoes of Progress

The air at the port of Cebu felt thick, heavy with an unnatural stillness that will unsettle one's soul. The saltwater stank of decay, mixing with the faint scent of burning wood from nearby ships. The moon hung low in the sky, a pale, distant witness to the chaos that now defined the world. The only sounds that reached me were the distant crashing of waves against the rotting piers, and the unnerving shrieks from the shadows, just beyond the periphery of my vision.

A few centuries ago, it was Magellan who invaded the Philippines. Today, it's the Sunod. And this time, there's no glory in fighting back—only survival.

I ran my fingers over the worn paper in my pocket, the crumpled edges still etched into my skin. I couldn't shake the images from my mind—the moment Raj Patel and Dr. Miranda Hayes had stood in front of me, urging me to trust Chronos, to undo the inevitable written in the list.

The list haunted me now, etched into my mind even clearer than the paper itself.

Accepting the Chronos Project. (Crossed out)

Most of the team quit Chronos Project. (Crossed out.)

Helping a friend from the Philippines with her biotech research. (Crossed out.)

Your friend succeeded with her biotech research. Crossed out.

You solved the right algorithm for Chronos. (Crossed out.)

Anya—betrayal with Lucas.

Theft of credit for Chronos.

Completion of the time travel device.

Catastrophic global collapse.

You. Dying alone.

If only I had taken a moment to truly dissect what was on that list. If only I hadn't rushed to activate Chronos in a desperate bid to undo the past. Maybe—just maybe—I could've stopped this nightmare before it spread.

The city of Cebu was almost entirely overrun now, swallowed by the very thing we had created. Salus. A cure. A universal vaccine, designed to fight every disease humanity could imagine. It was supposed to save the world, but it became its greatest curse. It mutated, morphed into a virus—a virus that spread faster than we could track, and with it, came the Sunod.

The air hung thick around me, stinking of rust and decay, the kind of rot that only comes when death has lingered too long. It stuck to my skin, seeping into my clothes, mixing with the oppressive humidity that the sea was dragging in. The ocean's salty breath should've been a comfort, but now it was just another reminder of how far this place had fallen.

Cebu, once a bustling metropolis, had fallen silent. It was an unnatural silence, the kind that presses against the eardrums, suffocating and ominous. Even when typhoons ravaged the city, there was always a hum of life—people scrambling for shelter, shouting to be heard over the rain, the wind. But now, there was nothing. Just the soft, eerie lap of waves against the jagged rocks below the pier. The silence was deafening, too loud in its absence of hope.

I stepped off the battered ferry, my boots scraping against the broken wood of the pier. The boards creaked underfoot, as if the very foundations of this city were groaning under the weight of its impending doom. I paused, adjusting the straps on my pack. My hands were shaking—not from exhaustion, not from the strain of the long journey—but from the cold knot of dread curling tighter in my chest.

Four words. Salus has breached containment.

I used to go here in Cebu just to visit my friend Dr. Marisol. We both share our knowledge to each other and help each other with... personal needs.

I adjusted my pack one last time, my back straightening as I stepped forward into the heart of Cebu. Whatever was left of this city, I would face it head-on.

But as I walked, I couldn't shake the feeling that the city wasn't empty—only waiting. Waiting for me to make the next wrong move.

And deep down, I knew it wasn't just the Sunod I had to fear.

It was what we had done to ourselves.

The streets were littered with debris, abandoned vehicles, and—I forced myself to look away—bodies. Some decomposed beyond recognition, others too fresh for comfort. The Sunod hadn't been merciful. Their victims were twisted into grotesque caricatures of humanity, their skin mottled with dark veins, eyes clouded like frosted glass.

"Keep moving," I whispered to myself, my voice trembling as I holstered my gun and grabbed the small steel baton sheathed in my bag. It wasn't much, but it was better than making unnecessary noise to alarm the Sunods.

The city wasn't completely desolate. Shadows flitted between buildings, quick and silent. Survivors, maybe? Or worse. I tightened my grip on the baton and stayed on the main road, keeping my pace steady. The message had directed me to an old biotech lab near the city's edge. A place that had once been the forefront of innovation—my innovation. Now it was just another graveyard.

As I approached the lab, the setting sun bathed the city in a sickly orange glow. The building loomed ahead, its once-pristine facade now scarred by time and chaos. Vines crawled up the walls, and the glass doors hung loosely on their hinges, swaying with each gust of wind. A faded sign still clung to the front: SolGen Biotech.

My stomach twisted in disgust as I stared at the crumbling facade of SolGen Biotech. The towering structure, once a beacon of scientific achievement and progress, now stood like a hollow tomb, its windows shattered, its doors hanging crooked on rusted hinges. The faint glow from the neon signs outside flickered like dying embers, casting an eerie light over the surrounding streets. The place where dreams were meant to come alive had become a monument to my failure.

SolGen was meant to change the world. It was my Obra Maestra, the product of countless sleepless nights, of blood, sweat, and tears. But it had spiraled into a nightmare. Salus. A vaccine meant to save the world, now a virus that had nearly obliterated it.

And now this place—this monument to my broken dreams—stood as a stark reminder of everything I had lost.

"Is the outcome for using my time machine, Chronos, bound to failure?" I muttered to myself, the words tasting bitter as they left my lips. I hadn't meant to say them aloud, but the question had been gnawing at me ever since we activated Chronos. We traveled back in time to correct our mistakes, but what if it was all for nothing?

The wind howled through the broken streets, carrying the smell of decay and rot. I pulled my jacket tighter around me, trying to shake the feeling that the city itself was closing in on me. There were no screams anymore—just the distant moans of the Sunod, the creatures that had once been human, now twisted and hungry.

I fumbled with my pack, pulling out the crumpled list. The paper was ragged from being carried around for so long, its corners torn from my constant handling. I didn't need to look at it, but I couldn't stop myself. The words had become etched in my mind, like a scar that wouldn't fade.

The list, given to me by the hooded figure, was my guide. My map through this hellish journey. I'd added my own notes, changes I thought could fix the world, even if the damage had already been done.

I read through it once again, my eyes scanning the crossed-out items, each one with my own note

Accepting the Chronos Project (crossed out) Note: Repeated

Most of the team quit Chronos Project (crossed out) Note: corrected. Chronos was cancelled, Replaced by Project Salus.

Helping a friend from the Philippines with her biotech research (crossed out) Note: Repeated.

Your friend succeeded with her biotech research (crossed out) Note: Repeated. And built SolGen Biotech in Cebu City, Philippines with my friend.

You solved the right algorithm for Chronos (crossed out) Note: Did not happen.

Anya – betrayal with Lucas Note: Did not happen. Broke up with Anya 3 years before Chronos project.

Theft of credit for Chronos Note: Did not happen.

Completion of the time travel device Note: Did not happen.

Catastrophic global collapse.

You. Dying alone.

I let out a long, shaky breath as I read the last two lines again. They seemed to haunt me, mocking my every attempt to fix what was broken. Catastrophic global collapse. I knew it was happening. I felt it in the air, in the cracks that were beginning to show in the city's structure, in the way the world seemed to be unraveling piece by piece.

I stared at the last line, the one that had been there from the beginning: You. Dying alone.

Was this my fate? Was this how it was always meant to end?

I couldn't let it end this way. Not after everything.

With trembling fingers, I scratched out the last part, adding my own note, a desperate plea to make things right:

Catastrophic global collapse. Note: I think it's happening already. I hope I can make this right.

You. Dying alone. Note: Not gonna happen (..l..) fuck off hooded person

I paused, staring at the new words. It wasn't enough, but it was all I had left.

I tucked the list back into my pack and stood up straight, the weight of everything pressing down on me. The air felt heavier now, charged with something dark, something ancient that I couldn't quite understand. I could feel the world watching me, waiting for me to make the next move, as if everything hinged on my next decision.

But how could I fix something this broken? How could I undo the irreversible?