To my old friend, Alex—

I don’t even know if this will ever reach you. Hell, I’m not even sure I’ll get a message back. But if by some miracle this makes it through—if the wormhole stabilizer holds—then maybe this letter will find its way across the years.

It’s been 100 years, Alex. One full century.

Somehow, I made the jump. I skipped forward. I don’t fully understand how I survived it—or why. I wasn’t supposed to go alone, but I did. And I left everyone behind.

Everyone except my wife and the kids. I managed to bring them through, though that’s a whole other story I’ll have to tell you face to face. Gods, I hope I get to tell you face to face.

You wouldn’t believe what the world has become.

People move freely between Earth, the Moon, and Mars like they’re just distant neighborhoods. There are orbital elevators now—massive towers connecting the surface to the sky. Interplanetary travel is routine. The moon has greenhouses and jazz bars. Mars has cities. Real ones.

And then there are the enhancements. Not just prosthetics—I’m talking about fully synthetic organs, limbs, even entire body replacements. You can rewrite your body now, Alex. Make it faster, stronger, nearly indestructible. Bulletproof skin. Reinforced bones. Lungs that can breathe underwater. Eyes that see the ultraviolet. Some people fly without wings. Some live entirely in virtual overlays. It’s insane… and beautiful.

Remember how we used to call it cyberpunk? Neon lights, flying cars, glowing cities under dark skies? That aesthetic we dreamed about—it’s real. The nights glow with color. Holograms shimmer on every corner. Vehicles hum through the sky in lanes of light. It’s like the future finally caught up with our dreams and decided to outdo them.

But here’s the wildest part:

They fixed it.

The climate. The planet.

They actually fixed it.

The tech they developed—filtration towers, atmosphere regulators, advanced eco-systems—it worked. They found a way to clean the oceans. To pull toxins out of the soil. Massive root-networks are now artificially grown to rebuild forests. And when food started running out, they built fully sustainable synth-farms that don’t just feed us, but restore the land. Nature didn’t die—it was reborn.

Once they got serious about ending fossil fuels, everything changed. The Earth healed so fast it was like watching time in reverse. Places that were dying when we were kids… they’re blooming now. Verdant, endless, alive.

But, man… even with all this wonder—I miss you.

Every day.

We cured Easton, by the way. I remember all the nights crying? All the damn hospital visits? Cystic fibrosis is gone in this time. Enhancements let them target genetic flaws right after birth. No more pain. No more short breaths. He runs so much now. Fast. Strong. He laughs like he’s never known struggle.

Sometimes I sit under the stars, and it just hits me…

You’re not here.

I keep thinking, Alex would love this.

And then I remember… you’re still there. Back in that past that feels more like a dream now.

But I haven’t given up. Not even close.

I’m working on the wormholes. I’m trying to get back—not just to visit. I want to get you. Bring you forward. I don’t want to see this future without you in it.

I hope this letter makes it through the gap. I hope the data survives the fold. I hope something in the universe still connects us.

I miss you, brother. I’ll come for you soon.

–J