As always, the streets are crowded with taxis and expensive cars. As always, the sidewalks seethe with pedestrians. As always, the doomsayer wades through the tide of humanity with his message of catastrophe.

“Bomb Alice and Atlas! Topple the Totem! Science has doomed us all!”

Someone tosses a quarter at his sandwich board. It bounces off the legend “SCREW LHC” and rolls into a gutter.

“Don’t put us in a temporal cul-de-sac! Nobody wants to live in a dead end reality!”

The street walkers pass him by without registering his existence. His words are simple chords of a greater symphony that lulls them to sleep at night.

“Existence will loop back onto itself to its origin and return—” he preaches at a stray dog, turning a strip of newspaper onto itself to create a loop.

“—AGAIN—” His face grows crimson in shades.

“—AND—” His eyes are now bulging in their sockets.

“—AGAIN!” He has an aneurysm and his knees give away.

As his cheek impacts the concrete, the Collider sends a particle backwards in time.