Chrono Collapse: A Time Travel Adventure

1. You wake up in a small room filled with ticking clocks, your memory hazy. A strange device is strapped to your wrist: a ChronoKey. A note lies on the table: “Reality is crumbling. You caused it. Fix it.”
Do you:
- Try to remember what happened?
- Press the button on the ChronoKey?
2. Flashes return: your experiments with retrocausal loops, your attempt to undo a global disaster, and the moment you vanished. But you don't recall why you vanished.
Do you:
- Activate the ChronoKey now?
- Search the room first?
3. You vanish in a burst of white light and reappear in your old lab, ten years ago. A younger you is working, unaware. The ChronoKey pulses—time is unstable.
Do you:
- Speak to your younger self?
- Sabotage the equipment quietly?
4. Inside a drawer, you find blueprints for the ChronoKey. Scribbled in red ink: “Loop must close. Paradox is the key.” There's also a photo—your lab in flames.
Do you:
- Study the blueprints?
- Ignore them and press the ChronoKey?
5. Your younger self stares at you, stunned. “Are you… me?” he asks. As you explain, the ChronoKey buzzes angrily. Time begins to fracture—the lab flickers.
Do you:
- Warn him about the future?
- Knock him out and take over?
6. You pull a key capacitor and vanish again—only to reappear in a wasteland. Skies red, earth cracked. The ChronoKey displays: “Causal loop broken. Stability: 4%.”
Do you:
- Attempt to travel further back?
- Try to stabilize the current timeline?
7. The blueprints reveal the ChronoKey creates self-correcting loops. But too many loops create instability. The only way to reset time is to cause a final paradox.
Do you:
- Try to force a paradox?
- Prevent all loops from forming?
8. He believes you. Together, you design a temporal anchor—but just as it finishes, he disappears. The ChronoKey reads: “Loop conflict. Original self erased.”
Do you:
- Use the anchor anyway?
- Travel back again to stop yourself from ever returning?
9. You strike quickly and assume his place. But something feels wrong. The ChronoKey is heating up—overloaded by too many iterations of yourself in time.
Do you:
- Destroy the ChronoKey?
- Attempt one last jump?
10. You aim for the year 1969—when the ChronoKey project began. You appear in a military lab. They're building the first prototype. You’re arrested on sight.
Do you:
- Try to convince them you’re from the future?
- Escape and sabotage the prototype?
11. You search the wasteland and find a bunker. Inside: a journal. Your journal. It details dozens of failed timelines. Each ends in collapse.
Do you:
- Try to find one working loop?
- Give up and destroy the ChronoKey?
12. You create a loop that contradicts itself—visiting the moment before you time-traveled and preventing it. Everything shatters. You feel yourself dissolving.
Ending: You succeeded. The paradox collapses the timeline. Reality resets. But you are gone.
13. You trace every loop back to its origin, dismantling them one by one. Years pass. You're alone in a blank world—no time, no events.
Ending: Time is safe, but only you remain. An eternal sentinel.
14. The anchor stabilizes the loop. The world flickers, repairs itself. People don’t remember the collapse. You exist slightly out of phase now—immortal, invisible.
Ending: The world survives. You don’t belong.
15. You arrive just before your own first jump. You stop yourself—but this creates a loop that never closes. Time collapses.
Ending: You trap yourself in infinite recursion. The universe cycles forever.
16. You smash the ChronoKey. Time halts. You exist in a bubble of frozen causality. Nothing moves. You are safe—forever alone in a timeless prison.
Ending: Stasis. Survival without meaning.
17. Your last jump takes you to the Big Bang. Time has not yet begun. You touch the singularity. Everything starts again—with you as its seed.
Ending: Godhood. You are the beginning and end.
18. They don’t believe you. They dissect your ChronoKey. Decades later, they cause the timeline collapse you tried to prevent.
Ending: The loop fulfills itself. You die in custody.
19. You escape, barely. You destroy the prototype—but the paradox is too great. History rewrites itself violently. You wake up… as a child, in 2025.
Ending: Rebirth. A second chance—if you can remember.
20. You find a pattern in the journal—one loop that almost worked. You copy it exactly. Reality stitches back together. You’re exhausted, but alive.
Ending: Partial success. The world is stable, but fragile. You watch the clock... always.
21. You smash the ChronoKey. The wasteland fades. You fade too. Something watches you from beyond time. It approves.
Ending: Sacrifice. You gave everything. Balance returns.
22. You confront the version of yourself who started the ChronoKey project. He says, “I did it to undo my own failure.” You realize you are him.
Do you:
- Kill him to stop the loop?
- Merge minds and try again?
23. You end him—and vanish. Time ripples and hardens. History snaps into a new shape. You reappear in a world where the ChronoKey never existed.
Ending: You broke the chain. Peace, for now.
24. Your minds merge. You gain all knowledge—but lose identity. You are now a being of pure causality, moving through time without self.
Ending: Enlightenment. No self, no past, no future—only pattern.
25. You realize the note on the table in 1—“You caused it”—was written by you in another loop. The ChronoKey was always waiting.
Ending: You loop again. The clock never stops.