Chapter Text

There’s this thing about time travel that’s often argued about. If you changed something in the past, what would happen? Would your future be changed? If I went back in time and killed my past self, would I die? If I never existed, though, how would I have gone back in time to kill myself in the first place? It’s referred to as a “paradox.” In reality, if you change the past, it doesn’t create a paradox. It creates an alternate timeline, one you never had the gift of living in. All it would take is a few changes in the past, and suddenly you’ve created a picture perfect future that some Greg had the gift of living in. The possibilities of what you can do with time travel are practically endless. Now, I know you’re wondering how I could possibly be serious, as time travel doesn’t exist. In my timeline, it does. I helped create it. And let’s just say if you’re reading this right now, it worked. My name is Gregory R. Heffley. I’m 34 years old, and I’m going to sculpt the perfect future.

The BetaTrials Inc. laboratory is no place anyone would visit for fun. The silver, shimmering exterior has only recently given way to rust and ivy and, judging by the company’s current state, it will probably stay like that for good. Located deep in Nevada, far off the beaten path, the mere sight of it is enough to give passerby the shivers. For me, it’s become a sort of prison, metaphorically speaking. The kind of prison that beats you down to the point of no return. The kind of prison that tries to shatter you psychologically. Although, in my case, you can’t break what’s already broken.The hatred I have for this building is completely warranted, however. I mean, if you were stuck working here for over a decade you’d hate it too.

Twelve years ago I was hired by BetaTrials Inc. to help with an upcoming project. I was evaluated mentally and physically, and I passed all the tests. I guess when you’re an empty husk of a person there’s not much emotion to give off “red flags.” Either way, a year later I started my job as a scientist in their “Quantum Manipulation” division. I know, wimpy loser Greg Heffley turned genius scientist, huge shock. My team was made up of the very best, but progress was still slow. It would take all eleven years I was there to finally reach success. We’d been working on a new device, not for commercial sale, but instead something that could save the world. It was a “failsafe” in case the world were to ever enter into an apocalyptic scenario. A wrist watch that could travel in time. It was beautiful, and it was finally within my grasp. Up until they decided to test it.

When we tested it, everyone was there. Some of the country’s brightest minds had gathered to witness my life’s work, as well as the president, as she was supposed to be the one to wield it. The project stemmed from nuclear threats from overseas. The president had ordered BetaTrials Inc. to make a device that could help recover from the end of the world. Months of research determined it was impossible to recover once it started, but stopping it from happening altogether was an option. Guards swarmed like mosquitos around the convention center. If anyone were to try and break in, they would be killed in an instant. This would be America’s most tightly guarded secret. Or so they thought.

You see, I didn’t make this in the best interest of the country, I did this, like all the other things I’ve done in life, for myself. I needed this device more than anyone else. I couldn’t cope with their death. It’s been almost twenty years, and I still can’t get over it. The only people who I honestly cared about. It’s funny. Sometimes, you don’t fully know just how much you love someone… until they’re gone. My plan was simple: When I had the chance to be alone with the machine, I would go back in time and carry out my plan. I’d zap right back, and, to most people, nothing would be changed. But to me? Well, let’s just say I’d no longer be an empty husk with no purpose. If only it had worked out that way.

Bethany, one of the team leaders, put the machine on. I call it a wristwatch, but that’s really doing it too much justice. It's a wrist brace, with buttons and dials whirring and purring, making any regular person wonder if its a bomb. You fit the brace around your wrist, and you slip your fingers into the claw like appendages, fitting like a glove. You flip the correct dials and buttons to select where, or when, rather, you’d like to go. Before you know it, you’ve been sent to an untouched history, ripe for the changing. The trial was ready. It was supposed to be simple. Bethany would go back twenty minutes, and eat an apple sitting on the table in front of us. Then, she’d zip back, and everyone would be able to see the apple suddenly eaten. The president would be pleased, the world saved, and during the afterparty back at BetaTrials, I’d be able to go back and save them.

Bethany started up the machine. Everyone watched in awe as she flickered in and out of space and time, before disappearing completely. Everyone was silent. Suddenly, the wind rushed again and lights flickered, as Bethany appeared again. Mouths were agape. Bethany was smiling proudly, believing we had done it, but one look at the apple said otherwise. Things quickly went into a tailspin after that. Fingers were pointed, money was withdrawn, bankruptcy was filed, and all the while Bethany insisted she had eaten the apple. She was sure it had worked, Meanwhile, the device was under lock and key. The hope instilled in BetaTrials had completely faded away by this point. “Human error,” they had tried to say. Despite their efforts to convince their backers it would work, they were doomed to fail. They were hopeful that they’d get another chance, but that chance never came. Only lawyers. Soon after, in an attempt to cover their asses, BetaTrials announced the scheduled destruction of the machine. I couldn’t let that happen. This would completely destroy my plans. If the machine, my life’s work, was destroyed, everything I’ve been working for would be pointless. Before I could figure out how I could reach that machine, Bethany asked to talk to me.

B: Hey Greg,

G:Hey. What did you want?

B: Uhh, I just… I’m not sure. It sucks, you know? Worked on something for so long, only to have it whisked away.

G:I hope I never have to feel that pain.

B:What do you mean, Greg? You were part of the team! You don’t feel… destroyed!?

G:No. Not yet, at least.

B:W-what!? Greg, I’ve worked alongside you for… so long! We’ve poured our blood, sweat, and tears into this project! Only to have it malfunction like that!?

G:But did it, Bethany!?

B:...What are you talking about!?

G:When you came back, you claimed it worked, didn’t you!?

B:Yes but… I mean the apple wasn’t eaten! It clearly didn’t work!

G:Bethany… tell me something. Say I were to go back in time, to five minutes ago, and I were to kill my past self. What would happen?

B:Y-You can’t kill your past self! That would create a paradox!

G:But, clearly, I could! Physically, I can easily go and kill my past self! But, what would happen, Bethany!?

B:I… I don’t know.

G:I’ll tell you what, you mindless idiot!

B:Greg, wha- you’re scaring me!

G:If I were to go BACK IN TIME and kill myself, it wouldn’t change our future. It would open another one. Another future, ripped from the fabric of our past. One in which Greg Heffley is dead. Bethany you brainless scum, there’s a future where the apple was eaten! But not this one. Linear time travel is impossible, Bethany, and it took a genius like ME to figure that out!

B:W-Wait. We created an alternate future!? We… We have to tell the president, a-and the executive board! W-We can continue with the project! Greg, all hope isn’t lost yet! I-

G:Shut up. No one is telling anyone anything.

B:Greg, why are you… You knew about this, didn’t you!? You knew it wouldn’t work!

G:Honestly, Beth, I hoped it would, secretly. It would have made what I need to do so much easier.

B:Oh my God, Greg no! You can’t be serious!

G:Oh I’m beyond serious at this point. But, you know too much. Sweet dreams, Bethany.

B:N-No! Stop! You always were an asshole, Greg! I hate you! O-Oh my God, wait, please, stop!

*CRUNCH*

With Bethany out of the equation, I got back to work. If I was going to get to the machine, I’d need to overpower the guards swarming the base. That brings me to the point of killing Bethany in the first place. BetaTrials Inc. had a few successful projects. They were dangerous, however, which is why they were all locked away in “The Vault.” No guards are present, and no security cameras either, making my job much easier. All that’s guarding some of the world’s greatest technology is a locked door, requiring a pass code to be entered on a little keypad. Sure as shit, the code was written on a piece of paper in Bethany’s pocket. The moron couldn’t even remember a simple code. The vault opened easily, and inside I found my prize. Years ago, BetaTrials attempted to make “indestructible human shells.” Capable of containing a human mind, stored as artificial intelligence, the shells required the person to be dead before their minds could transfer over. Once a person died, all it required was a DNA sample. It sounds insane, but it works like a charm. They were also reprogrammable. Anyone who was in a body could easily reprogrammed to the point where they become a different person. The shells were locked up due to ethical issues, but honestly I couldn’t give a single shit about ethics at the moment. I’ve got some people to make.

While Bethany got used to her new, robotic body, I called up Rowley. I asked him to stop by so we can catch up, and he very quickly agreed. He became a really great guy, which almost makes me feel bad for what I had to do next. Rowley put up more of a fight than Bethany, but it really didn’t matter. He’ll be sure to make up for it. The robotic suits were a modern marvel. Whirring from inside the machine and a low hum demonstrated just how quiet modern computers are. Rowley and Brittany uploaded relatively quickly, and the inhibitor chip allowed me to control their every move. Two robots might not sound like an army, but with their capabilities, we were the most capable army imaginable.

The days leading up to the destruction of the machine felt like they were taking an eternity. They did, however, give me the chance to work on my plan. All I had to do was sneak in with the robots dressed as a guard. That way, nobody would bat an eye, and I could get my hands on the machine. When the day came, I was MORE than ready. Everything started off fine. The robots and I snuck inside the facility. They don’t look even remotely human, but due to the number of “face transplants” going on recently for burn victims and such, their steel, robotic faceplates turned few heads. The process of destroying the machine was time consuming. All I had to do was wait for them to disarm the force field barrier, then make my move. I’d grab it, and the next thing you know I’d be back in time. What I didn’t expect, though, was what happened next. They took out a vat of acid. Rather than take it apart piece by piece in order to make sure it worked right, they tried to melt it. Before I knew it, they were starting to dip the machine in the acid. I had no choice. I’m not proud of what I did next. Not necessarily because I had to kill nearly twenty people, but rather how messy it was. It wasn’t supposed to go like that.

Needless to say, I got the machine, and it was still in perfect condition. This world, however... was less so. My original plan was to stop… “it” from ever happening, and return to this world a fulfilled soul. Clearly, that won’t work, with all the security footage and evidence of my crimes, but I had a spark. An idea. Nothing ever worked out for me. I was always lonely, sad, hanging out with that fat bastard Rowley as my only means of happiness. The accident only pushed me over the edge, but had it not happened… would anything really be different? I’d still be this way. Nothing would change. That’s when I thought of something. Why only fix the accident, when I can change… everything? I suppose this is the reason they didn’t want anyone obtaining the machine. It can turn them into madmen. But that’s just the thing. I was a madman long before this machine came into my life. I’m taking the robots with me. The only way to fix absolutely everything, is by going back to the very beginning.

TO BE CONTINUED (?)