I can't even remember my home timestream anymore. I've skipped into so many different worlds, seen so many variations, I don't think anything could truly shock me.
Russia winning the Cold War? That's small potatoes compared to humans having three heads, all light being ultraviolet, or the millions of dead, cold microuniverses.
But I'll keep skipping, keep searching. Because no matter how many free love timelines or worlds made of chocolate I come across, one thing remains true.
I may not remember my original world, but I remember you.
And one of these worlds must have another you in it.
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