Viktor had never believed in the big bang. In a manner of speaking, of course. He believed in the creation of the universe, that was obvious enough. But he didn't believe it was a bang. No, for Viktor, it had started quietly, silently. Like a drop of water on the end of a leaf.

Or a shooting star. There had been no sound, only light. The lab had been quiet, too, when the last equation was solved. No big sound, no big cheer. Only a breath of relief from his lips and a shy smile from his team.

For thousands of years, humanity had puzzled over the question. And now, in his trembling hands, lay not just a finished problem, but the answer to everything. Time had always been the outlier. Looping, fraying, inconsistent. But three-dimensional time, modeled and layered, suddenly fit.

Kletetschka had been right, even if it took years to prove his theory. It was a lattice, a framework, and space constructed itself around it. And somewhere in that lattice, Viktor realised, the universe listened back. He barely had time to grasp the implications before the sky opened.

That had been quiet, too. No storm, no lightshow. No alien spaceships or laser beams coming to destroy earth. Something just shifted, like the wind on a summer afternoon. There had been a simple announcement from NASA that day, broadcasted to every screen across the globe. Please stay calm.