Aeon continued forward.
The memory of the cop's consciousness faded behind him, dissolving into silence as Aeon moved on. The knowledge he had consumed lingered only as fragments—maps, fears, commands—but none of it prepared him for what stood ahead.
Before him rose Area 51.
Not the myth.
Not the rumors.
The real place.
The land stretched endlessly—flat, dry, and lifeless. No wind. No birds. No sound. The ground itself felt heavy, as if reality had been pressed down harder here than anywhere else on Earth.
Aeon hovered near the outer gate.
And stopped.
Something was wrong.
He tried to move forward.
Nothing happened.
He tried again.
Still nothing.
Aeon narrowed his perception and attempted to teleport. Space folded—then snapped back into place.
Blocked.
He attempted a dimensional slide, shifting his 8D body slightly out of alignment with the physical world.
Blocked again.
Aeon drifted backward, confused.
"This is impossible," he thought.
No physical structure stood in his way. No wall. No visible shield. Yet every attempt to enter failed.
Slowly, carefully, Aeon expanded his awareness.
That was when he felt it.
A barrier.
Not a simple force field, but something far more complex. It stretched across the land in a perfect invisible dome, covering nearly 90,000 acres—around 140 square miles.
The barrier pulsed.
Not with energy.
But with supereons.
Aeon felt the flow immediately. Supereons were not particles or waves—they were decisions made solid, fragments of will encoded into reality itself. Whoever built this barrier had not simply constructed it.
They were controlling it from inside.
Aeon's interest sharpened.
"A living system," he murmured.
The barrier was intelligent. Responsive. Divided into sections, each running on its own binary code, woven directly into the supereon flow.
Aeon extended his consciousness and began to read it.
Zeros. Ones. Patterns inside patterns.
He tried decoding.
Failed.
He tried again, approaching from a higher dimensional angle.
Failed.
Time passed. Minutes. Hours.
Each attempt ended the same way—the barrier rejected him without resistance, as if calmly saying: you do not belong here.
For the first time in a long while, Aeon felt something close to frustration.
Finally, he pulled back.
"I'll return," he decided. "After a few Earto days. With preparation."
He turned.
And froze.
His body stopped responding.
Not just his physical form—but his entire 8D existence locked in place, as if reality itself had wrapped invisible chains around him.
Aeon tried to pull away.
Nothing.
Then—something moved him.
Not space.
Not time.
Will.
Aeon was forced to stand perfectly still as a section of the barrier shimmered open before him.
A narrow opening appeared, glowing faintly.
AREA-51-12E-16B
Aeon stared.
The barrier opened for him.
But not by his choice.
"…Interesting," he whispered.
As he passed through the opening, information flooded his awareness. The barrier was not a single system—it was divided into countless segments, each spanning roughly 1,000 kilometers, each powered by a unique supereon flow and protected by a different binary structure.
No single being could break it from the outside.
Unless the barrier itself allowed them in.
Aeon did not know who had guided him.
But one thing was clear.
Destiny wanted him inside Area 51.
UNKNOWN TO AEON
Far beyond known dimensions—
In a universe without coordinates—
Bhram watched.
His dimension had no shape, no direction, no time. It existed outside all measurements. Reality passed through it like a shadow.
Suddenly, space bent.
A familiar presence appeared.
Saturn.
Bhram lowered his head slightly.
"My lord," Bhram said, his voice calm yet reverent. "You are always welcome."
Saturn smiled faintly. "Thank you. Tell me—why did you let Aeon pass?"
Bhram gestured, and Aeon's memories unfolded between them like floating glass.
"Out of 2,563 beings who have ever sensed Area 51," Bhram said, "he is the only one who questioned why it exists."
Saturn watched silently.
"He understands gambling," Bhram continued. "Not luck—but time gambling. Cause. Risk. Probability."
Bhram turned to Saturn.
"And who taught him that, my lord?"
Saturn chuckled softly. "I only showed him the board. I never taught him how to play."
"Still," Bhram replied, "that was enough."
Saturn nodded slowly. "Then you made the right choice."
INSIDE AREA 51
Aeon floated forward.
The inside was… disappointing.
Rows of military vehicles. Radar towers. Weapons. Surveillance systems. Massive machines scanning for 3D beings.
No gods.
No secrets.
Aeon split his consciousness.
One became two.
Two became five.
Four parts moved in opposite directions above ground.
The fifth descended.
As his consciousness slipped beneath the earth, Aeon felt it immediately.
A distortion.
A deep, unnatural supereon current flowing far below.
"Something is down there," he realized.
Above ground, one of his consciousness fragments found a single unidentified flying object in the northwest sector.
Cold. Silent. Lifeless.
Not important.
Below ground—
A world.
Hidden.
Alive.
Beings like Aeon—but bound by laws older and stricter.
Before he could reach them, the underground consciousness stopped.
Blocked.
Aeon pulled all fragments back into himself.
His crystalline time core hovered behind him, glowing softly.
"Every time I recombine," Aeon said quietly, "it feels… different."
He smiled.
Curious.
Determined.
Aeon expanded his full 8D form, then broke it down again—this time into six orbs, each representing a dimension:
3D
4D
5D
6D
7D
8D
They floated behind him like silent stars.
Then—he pulled them all back into the time core.
Aeon focused.
The ground beneath him shimmered.
Instead of forcing his way through, Aeon chose another path.
He selected specific particles of earth.
And sent them back in time—to a moment before Area 51 ever existed.
For a brief instant, the ground forgot it was solid.
Aeon guided his football-sized time core through the empty space—never touching the particles directly.
Then restored the timeline.
He was underground.
Safe.
OBSERVERS
Bhram watched, impressed.
"He understands quickly," Bhram said. "This is no child."
Saturn nodded. "He avoided the second barrier without even realizing it."
Aeon gathered his dimensions back into one consciousness.
"Why didn't I try this before?" he laughed softly. "At least some unknown god wanted me here."
He looked ahead.
Darkness.
Possibility.
Before leaving, Aeon restored the altered particles fully, preventing timeline confusion. He knew the danger—if his time core touched present-timeline matter directly, even he could lose control of future outcomes.
Aeon could not see his own future.
That was the price of gambling with time.
FINAL CONVERSATION
Bhram turned to Saturn.
"He understands the laws of time gambling already," Bhram said. "Thanks to you."
Saturn shook his head. "I didn't teach him that. I only introduced him to timelines."
Bhram paused.
"I want him as my student."
Saturn's expression hardened. "Why?"
"Because," Bhram said quietly, "one day… he will defeat me."
Silence.
"And when he does," Bhram continued, "I will give him my universe."
Saturn's eyes widened.
"Are you out of your mind?" he snapped.
The universe trembled.
To be continued…