1.0technotimes.infohttps://technotimes.infoTitashttps://technotimes.info/index.php/author/titas/rich600338<blockquote class="wp-embedded-content" data-secret="fHDVajyeLI"><a href="https://technotimes.info/index.php/2024/09/16/chronicles-of-story-travelling/">Chronicles of Story Travelling</a></blockquote><iframe sandbox="allow-scripts" security="restricted" src="https://technotimes.info/index.php/2024/09/16/chronicles-of-story-travelling/embed/#?secret=fHDVajyeLI" width="600" height="338" title="“Chronicles of Story Travelling” — technotimes.info" data-secret="fHDVajyeLI" frameborder="0" marginwidth="0" marginheight="0" scrolling="no" class="wp-embedded-content"></iframe><script> /*! This file is auto-generated */ !function(d,l){"use strict";l.querySelector&&d.addEventListener&&"undefined"!=typeof URL&&(d.wp=d.wp||{},d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage||(d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage=function(e){var t=e.data;if((t||t.secret||t.message||t.value)&&!/[^a-zA-Z0-9]/.test(t.secret)){for(var s,r,n,a=l.querySelectorAll('iframe[data-secret="'+t.secret+'"]'),o=l.querySelectorAll('blockquote[data-secret="'+t.secret+'"]'),c=new RegExp("^https?:$","i"),i=0;i<o.length;i++)o[i].style.display="none";for(i=0;i<a.length;i++)s=a[i],e.source===s.contentWindow&&(s.removeAttribute("style"),"height"===t.message?(1e3<(r=parseInt(t.value,10))?r=1e3:~~r<200&&(r=200),s.height=r):"link"===t.message&&(r=new URL(s.getAttribute("src")),n=new URL(t.value),c.test(n.protocol))&&n.host===r.host&&l.activeElement===s&&(d.top.location.href=t.value))}},d.addEventListener("message",d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage,!1),l.addEventListener("DOMContentLoaded",function(){for(var e,t,s=l.querySelectorAll("iframe.wp-embedded-content"),r=0;r<s.length;r++)(t=(e=s[r]).getAttribute("data-secret"))||(t=Math.random().toString(36).substring(2,12),e.src+="#?secret="+t,e.setAttribute("data-secret",t)),e.contentWindow.postMessage({message:"ready",secret:t},"*")},!1)))}(window,document); //# sourceURL=https://technotimes.info/wp-includes/js/wp-embed.min.js </script> It was a regular Sunday evening. I had my English exam the next day, so I was studying for it. The exam was on the chapter ‘The Fun They Had’. While reading for the exam I felt very dozy and without realizing it I fell asleep on the book. I then saw the void of my sleep turn white. I was in an empty white void floating for a moment after which I saw the void warp into a room. I’m standing in the middle of a sleek, futuristic room, where everything seems to hum with a quiet, almost sentient energy. The walls are smooth and seamless, made of a metallic material that subtly shifts colors depending on the light. A soft, ambient glow emanates from hidden panels, casting a gentle, diffused light that feels almost like natural daylight, yet there’s no window in sight. In the center of the room floats a low, circular table made of transparent glass, but it has no visible supports—just suspended there as if gravity has loosened its grip. Around it are chairs, also hovering slightly above the ground, their designs minimalist yet Comfortable. The air is crisp and fresh, with a faint scent of something unfamiliar but pleasant, almost like a blend of nature and technology. Embedded screens cover portions of the walls, displaying information in languages and symbols that shift as I glance at them, responding to my gaze. There’s no visible clutter—no buttons, no cables, no knobs—everything is controlled by subtle gestures or even thoughts. The room is incredibly quiet, with only the faintest hum of some advanced technology running in the background. It feels like a space designed for both relaxation and efficiency, where every detail is perfectly calculated to serve the needs of those who inhabit it. I was completely dumfounded. I thought maybe this is a dream, a lucid dream, so I looked at my hands… they were quite normal and looked at the shiny wall to see my reflection, and once again it was normal. I concluded that maybe this is reality and I somehow went to some other universe. I looked around, and found a table with a bowl with some colourful balls in it. The balls were about the size of a tennis ball. They looked like someone put colourful sand in plastic wrappers and shaped it to look like a ball. Somehow for some reason I really wanted to have the balls. However I resisted the urge to do so for all I know it may be drugs. As I was looking around I saw a woman. The woman standing before me looked like she stepped right out of the 17th century. Her gown flowed gracefully to the floor, made of what seems to be fine silk, with intricate embroidery tracing the edges. The bodice fit snugly, emphasizing her narrow waist, and her wide skirt billowed out in rich folds. Her sleeves were long, tapering into delicate lace cuffs. Her hair, carefully styled in soft curls, is pinned up, partly covered by a lace cap that adds a touch of elegance. I noticed her neck was adorned with a simple yet refined piece of jewelry. I thought perhaps I was going insane for the situation seemed futuristic but the woman in front of me seemed to defy all logic. While I looked visually surprised she asked me “Why art thou so fearful, my child? I am thy mother; hast thou forgotten? Dost thou have need of aught?”. I somewhat understood what she was saying but I was too confused to even say anything. Before I uttered anything, I saw the room fade away and I woke up to my mother waking me up. I sat in my bed for a while confused. I knew that wasn’t a dream for it was too realistic. However I didn’t know what happened so I started reading the chapter Again. While reading the chapter I realized that I might have been transported to a universe similar to my interpretation of the story. I tried to do it with other stories as well but I wasn’t sleepy anymore. I thought of continuing my experiments on the next day when I will be sleepy. The next day I tried the experiment with different books, a alarm, and a Stopwatch. After my experimentation, which let me tell you took two and a half hours, I concluded that- My actions don’t change the story Time dilation is true while in the story but it varies from story to story I thought of trying to go through the biography of Red Baron. I was Manfred von Richthofen, but the world has come to know me as the Red Baron. My life, like my machine, has been driven by the wind of war and the thrill of the hunt. Born into a Prussian noble family on May 2, 1892, I was raised with the values of honor, discipline, and duty. From a young age, I craved adventure, and it was this hunger that led me to the skies. When the Great War broke out, I found my way into the cavalry, but the mud and trenches did not suit me. The future of warfare, I knew, lay in the sky. It was then that I joined the Imperial German Air Service, and my life changed forever. Flying became my passion, my obsession. The sky was my battleground, and I quickly earned a reputation for my accuracy, courage, and ruthlessness. The red Fokker Dr.I triplane I piloted became a symbol of fear to my enemies, a crimson phantom streaking across the clouds. Each time I took to the air, I felt alive. My instincts sharpened with every dogfight, and my tally grew—80 confirmed aerial victories, each one a testament to my skill and determination. But it was not just about the numbers; it was about honor, respect between warriors, and the thrill of outmaneuvering my opponents. I became the leader of Jasta 11, and