#miracleborg

A myriad of satellites were perched in invisible orbit like birds on a wire, and as he sped past, he saw a variety of purple lights blinking at him- the friendly, neutral color of communication, a quick 'hello!' as he began his journey. Interstellar communication had gotten leagues better, and the nearby airspace really wasn't so lonely anymore. He whizzed past the air station, a few stray rockets from different independent explorers like him housed comfortably in its magnetic field. Now that he was finally out of orbit, he could calm his pace a little bit. He unbuckled his seatbelt, floating as if a petal on water, suprisingly light and graceful leaps. And heavens, did he have fun with it! Bounding about, feeling the freedom of space- though he had taken multiple trips into space before, it still was a rare treat, and he thoroughly enjoyed himself. Alone in his ship, he let his guard down, feeling like a kid once again. It was this kind of spirit he was going to need so desperately, for a mission like this.

Just for the sake of feeling less alone, he decided to tune his radio to the Communications section. With the clickity-clackity turn of a deliciously antiquated knob, the gentle static fuzzed in, a little warmer than usual (likely the gentle hum of the stars). "Hey, anyone online?" A voice shimmered through the speakers...

He ran his fingers through his hair, relaxing, hydraulics hissing as the tension left his body. “Alright ETH3R, it’s time. You know what to do.”

His virtual assistant, the Elite Technological Herald of the 3rd Resolution, was far more advanced than she needed to be just to run a rocket. It was his lifeline, just a bit- the only thing he could socialize with that would be free of judgement. Her sisters, other iterations of her code now perfected, had seen him through his first two (failed) resolutions; the original time machine and the memory communication beam. He couldn't do it with just his own power. The laws of spacetime still hindered him, and in order to truly reach his younger self to teach and fix him, he would need to go where the laws of spacetime didn't apply. The only such place was the near impossible; venturing straight into the core of a black hole.

"ETH3R, all systems are go. Engage the takeoff procedure." Quickly obliging, it issued a command to the central power station, and brought his creation to life with a mechanical symphony. The countdown began, one that he had been waiting for his whole life. The road to his liberation was ready for a ride and the keys were in the ignition. He held his breath.

10. 9. 8.

7.

He took a letter out of his pocket. It was written in young, loose cursive, neat between the lines on clean perforated notebook paper. 6.

"Dear Dr. Future Me, (because I KNOW we'll be a doctor by then,) Did we ever make it to Elitenati? Have you found out the secret to time travel yet? Did you win a Nobel Prize? Do I have friends yet? Are Mom and Dad proud of us? Signed, Melvin Sneedly age 7, 2nd Grade at Jerome Horowitz Elementary." 5.

He sighed. Poor kid would never get anywhere with his mindset. He... quietly resolved not to shatter his hopes, when he met his little self. Instead, frame it like all the things you could do right, you just have to do this and this and this and change these and that and this. It.... wasn't going to be easy. He was never good at giving advice. 4.

But he had to try. 3. 2. 1.

~