Kael, Kara, and Ress enter the Realm of Time — a place once vibrant with cosmic energy and endless potential. Now, it is a graveyard of ticking echoes and silent regrets. At its heart lies the Fractured Clocktower, home to Chronos's final echo. Kael must face not only time itself, but what he might become.
The Realm of Lost Time
The moment Kael stepped through the rift, he knew something was wrong.
The air didn't move. It hung thick and brittle, like glass that could shatter with a single breath. Kara came through next, blinking fast, her hands already moving to summon a light glyph, but the moment she tried — the rune froze mid-air, stuck in an invisible molasses.
Ress, ever the last to speak and the first to observe, said it flatly: "Time's wrong here."
And it was.
They stood on the edge of a broken platform, suspended in a sky of motionless starlight. Great gears larger than cities hung in the sky, still turning… but slowly. Painfully. As though resisting some unseen weight. Fractured clock faces spun in reverse. Shattered hourglasses bled sand upward.
Kael stepped forward. Each footfall echoed with strange delay — first the sound, then the sensation. His heartbeat felt like a metronome played by a drunk god.
"This was once…" Kara whispered, trailing off. Her voice was stolen mid-sentence and returned a second later, repeating itself like a fading echo:"This was once…""…once…""…once…"
Kael nodded. "Yeah. The Realm of Time. Or what's left of it."
Ress exhaled, his breath coming out in a spiral of mist that hung mid-air. "And at its center?"
Kael pointed across the fractured skyline.
The Fractured Clocktower loomed on the horizon, twisted and tall, its peak lost in an endless sky of frozen constellations. A staircase of suspended platforms and crumbling bridges led toward it, each one flickering — phasing between centuries.
They began the journey in silence, stepping across pathways that shifted underfoot — stone becoming metal, then glass, then bone, then back again. Time was fluid here, bleeding and folding in on itself. A single step could stretch seconds or leap decades.
Kael caught glimpses. Flickers.
A child version of himself, running barefoot with wild eyes. An older Kael, grim and scarred, holding a crown of black iron. A dead Kael, eyes hollow, impaled on a time-split blade.
"Kael?" Kara's voice, sharp, pulled him back.
He blinked. The vision faded.
"I'm good," he lied.
As they neared the tower, the air grew colder. Not with chill — with emptiness. This was the absence of time. The pause between seconds. The moment before a final breath.
Inside the tower, the world melted. Walls no longer held form. Staircases looped into themselves. Mirrors hung in midair, showing things they hadn't done — or might never do.
Kael saw a mirror where Kara wasn't with them at all.
Another where Ress walked alone, covered in blood.
And one… where Kael stood triumphant on a mountain of broken relics, his eyes glowing with something ancient.
Kara turned to him. "This place isn't just showing illusions. It's showing choices."
"It's showing what we could become," Ress added, voice tense.
Kael didn't reply.
They reached the summit. The tower's heart.
A massive gear, cracked down the middle, turned endlessly without purpose. Suspended above it was a throne of starlight, and seated upon it — the Temporal Guardian.
It was not a man. Not a creature. It was the silhouette of Chronos, the Pillar of Time, long dead — now reduced to will and echo. Its form shimmered, constantly changing — old, young, male, female, mechanical, ethereal.
Its voice was not heard, but felt — a vibration in Kael's skull:
"You have come seeking the Fragment."
Kael stepped forward, slowly. "We need it. The Realms—"
"—are dying. Yes. As foretold. As lived. As broken."
The Guardian raised a hand. A crystal fragment hovered in the air, spinning slowly. Within it was a shard of Chronos's divine essence — pure temporal energy. A fragment of dominion.
"You may claim it. But know this: It is not a gift. It is a choice. A burden.Claim it, and you will shape your path anew. Deny it, and fate will remain untouched.**"
Kael reached out — and time stopped.
Everything froze.
Kara. Ress. The tower. The stars. All halted mid-motion.
And Kael… saw.
A vision flooded him.
He stood at the threshold of the 13th Realm, sealing it shut with the Fragment blazing in his hand. Aeon's remnants screamed behind the rift.
But the cost…
Kara's lifeless body lay at his feet.
Ress — older, furious, betrayed — walking away, leaving Kael behind.
The Realms? Burning. Warring.
The world had been saved… but at a price written in blood and ashes.
The vision ended. Time resumed.
Kael stared at the Fragment.
He should've walked away.
He didn't.
He reached out — and claimed it.
The energy burned through him like molten light. The air cracked. The tower shook. Kara screamed as the walls began to collapse. Ress grabbed her, pulling her back.
"KAEL!" Kara yelled, but it was too late.
The choice had been made.
The Guardian faded.
And time resumed its slow decay.
Outside the tower, as they regrouped amid the ruins, Kara glanced at Kael. "What did you see?"
Kael hesitated. Then forced a smile. "Nothing I didn't expect."
Kara narrowed her eyes, unconvinced.
Ress was silent. Watching him.
Kael said nothing more.
He had lied.And time… would tell the cost.
[End Of Chapter19]
As the trio prepares to leave the Realm of Time, Kael feels the Fragment pulsing in his chest — not power, but warning. A crack appears on his arm, faint and glowing with shifting runes.
The Fragment was never meant for mortal hands.
And something… something else… had followed them out.
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Chapter 20: Kara's Truth
The group travels to the Memory Vaults of Or'en, seeking a way to decipher the Fragment's hidden truth. But with each step, Kael feels time unraveling — and his grip on reality slipping. When the past begins to rewrite itself, and Kara's memories start changing, Kael must ask: is the future still his to shape… or has it already been lost?