April: The Girl Who Lived for Two Billion Years
April
was not like other girls. She didn’t just live a lifetime—she lived forever.
It
all began when she was twelve years old. She had been playing near a river when
she found a small, shimmering stone lodged between the roots of an ancient
tree. It pulsed with an energy she couldn't explain. The moment she touched it,
something changed within her.
At
first, April didn't notice anything unusual. She still grew up, learned new
things, and made friends. But as decades passed, she remained the same. Her
skin never wrinkled, her hair never grayed, and time
seemed to flow around her like a river that never touched its banks.
She
watched the world shift, civilizations rise and fall, languages change, and
mountains crumble into dust. After a thousand years, she had outlived everyone
she had ever known. After a million years, the stars in the sky had shifted,
and the Earth itself was unrecognizable.
But
April was still there.
She
traveled the world, learned every language, witnessed
every event history would ever record—then lived through histories that no one
would ever remember. She watched the continents drift, the oceans dry up, and
new ones form. When humanity faded into myth and the Earth belonged to creatures
of the deep once more, April remained.
After
a billion years, the sun grew hotter, the atmosphere changed, and life as she
had once known it disappeared. But April adapted. She could breathe in any air,
survive any condition. She walked through fire, swam through ice, and lived
through darkness when the sky was thick with dust.
Another
billion years passed. Earth itself was no longer home. The sun expanded,
swallowing the inner planets, and April drifted into the stars, her body no
longer bound by gravity or time. She wandered among galaxies, speaking to
creatures made of light, dancing with the storms of Jupiter, and listening to
the echoes of ancient civilizations carried on cosmic winds.
She
had long stopped wondering why she lived, and simply embraced the infinite
journey ahead. She was April—the girl who had lived for two billion years, and
would live for countless more.
And
so, she continued, forever moving forward, a lone traveler
in the endless tapestry of time.
John, the Eternal Voyager
John
was an ordinary man until the day the universe decided he would never die. No
one knew why—no magic spells, no divine intervention—just one day, his body
stopped aging, and wounds healed faster than they should. He didn’t even
realize it at first.
A
decade passed, then a century. The people he loved grew old and faded into
history, but John remained unchanged. The world shifted around him, technology
advancing, empires rising and falling, but he was a constant, a living witness
to time itself.
After
the first thousand years, he stopped trying to live a normal life. He had been
a king, a beggar, a scholar, a warrior. He had watched the stars in the sky
rearrange themselves. And yet, he remained.
By
the time humanity left Earth and colonized the stars, John had been alive for a
million years. He no longer saw time in days or even centuries. He had walked
on new planets, seen alien civilizations bloom and wither. He had learned every
language, mastered every art, but still, something inside him remained
unsatisfied.
One
billion years passed. The galaxies themselves had begun to change, stars
burning out and new ones being born. John had stopped counting the years,
instead marking time by cosmic shifts. He drifted through space, unbothered by
hunger, thirst, or cold. He had long since stopped fearing the vast emptiness;
instead, he embraced it as a friend.
As
two billion years approached, John finally understood his purpose. He was not
meant to be a man, not anymore. He was the witness, the last remnant of the
universe’s beginning, a soul that would endure beyond the end of all things.
And
so, as the universe itself began to dim, John stood at the edge of existence,
waiting to see what lay beyond the end.
Would
he finally rest? Or would he step into something new?
No
one but John would ever know.