Ali woke on the cold ground of the valley. His body ached as if he had fallen through the sky. The broken tower was gone. The fog had lifted. The land was silent, too silent, like time itself had forgotten how to breathe.
He looked around.
No Turgut.
No warriors.
No Elias.
Only the stone remained, glowing faintly in his hand. New words carved themselves across its surface as if an invisible hand was writing:
"The Eye has closed—but the Shadow still watches. Seek the Whisper Clock before the fifth echo."
Ali rubbed his eyes. The letters shimmered, then hardened like cracks in glass.
"What's the Whisper Clock?" Ali whispered to himself. His voice echoed strangely, bouncing around the empty valley as though the valley itself was repeating his words back at him.
The echo… that was what the stone meant. But what was the "fifth echo"?
Ali pushed the thought aside. First, he needed to survive. He walked toward the edge of the valley. The land beyond looked wrong. The sun sat in the sky, but it didn't move. Birds were frozen mid-flight, wings stiff like statues. Then, after a blink, they moved again—but backward.
Time was not just broken.
It was rewriting itself.
---
The Theory of Time's Rewrite
As Ali walked, a frightening thought struck him:
What if Baykuş wasn't only changing time to rule it… what if time itself was rewriting history to erase contradictions? Like a river fixing its flow after someone throws stones into it.
If that was true, then maybe his friends had not been killed. Maybe they had been rewritten—placed somewhere else, in another version of time.
The Whisper Clock, then, might not just be an object. It could be something that measured how many times reality was rewritten before it collapsed completely.
And the "fifth echo"… was that the fifth rewrite?
Ali shivered. If the world rewrote itself five times, maybe there would be nothing left.
---
The Road of Broken Days
He followed a narrow trail out of the valley. The ground cracked with each step, as if he was walking on glass. Ahead, the land shifted like a dream. Mountains appeared and disappeared. Trees grew tall, then withered in seconds.
On the second day of his journey, Ali found a campfire that was still warm. Someone else was here. He followed the ashes, hoping it was Turgut or Elias.
Instead, he found strangers.
They looked human, but their eyes glowed faintly silver. Their armor was unlike any he had seen, made of smooth plates that shifted like liquid. One of them raised a hand.
"You are out of place," she said. Her voice echoed like two people speaking at once.
Ali froze. "Who are you?"
"We are the Remnants," she said. "Those who were not rewritten. Time forgot us, but we remain."
Ali's heart raced. "Do you know about the Whisper Clock?"
The Remnants looked at each other. Finally, the leader spoke. "Yes. It is the last measure. When it strikes the fifth echo, the Shadow takes everything."
Ali clenched the stone in his hand. "I have to find it before Baykuş does."
The woman tilted her head. "You carry the mark of Meçhul Göz. That means the Eye chose you. But beware—the Shadow is older than the Eye. And it whispers to all who listen."
---
Echoes of Friends
That night, Ali dreamed again. But this time, it was not a dream—it was an echo.
He saw Turgut, alive, but in a different world. The tribe was there, but they didn't remember him. Time had placed them in a new version of history.
He reached for them, but his hand passed through.
Then Elias appeared. His face was pale, his hands shaking as he held the broken red device.
"Ali," Elias said, "Baykuş is not the only danger. The Shadow is real. It lives between moments. It feeds on forgotten time. That is what the Whisper Clock measures—how close the Shadow comes."
Ali shouted, "Where is it? How do I find it?"
But before Elias could answer, the dream shattered.
---
The Journey to the Whisper Clock
The Remnants agreed to guide Ali. They spoke of a place beyond the rivers of sand, where the sky rang like a bell at dawn. That was where the Whisper Clock hid.
The journey was long and strange.
They passed through forests where trees grew backward into seeds. They crossed deserts where each grain of sand whispered a memory. Some nights, Ali heard his mother's voice. Other nights, he heard Baykuş laughing.
On the third night, they reached a field of broken mirrors. Each mirror showed a different version of Ali. In one, he was old and gray. In another, he was never born. In yet another, he stood as a warrior beside Baykuş.
The Remnants warned him not to touch the mirrors, but Ali couldn't look away. Was this what Baykuş wanted? To choose the version of history where he ruled everything?
---
The Clock of Whispers
Finally, on the seventh day, they reached it.
The Whisper Clock stood in the middle of a lake of black water. It was enormous, taller than any tower Ali had seen, made of gears that turned without sound. The clock hands were invisible, but shadows moved across its face like passing clouds.
And then Ali heard it.
Not ticking.
Not ringing.
But whispering.
The voices of countless people, all speaking at once. Some begged for help. Some cried. Some laughed. They were the voices of lives erased by time's rewrites.
Ali fell to his knees. "This is it."
The Remnant leader nodded. "Four echoes have passed. One remains. When the fifth strikes, the Shadow takes the world."
Ali stood, holding the stone. "Then I'll stop it."
---
Baykuş Returns
But he was not alone.
From the black water rose a figure cloaked in darkness. Baykuş. His eyes glowed red, and in his hands he held chains made of shattered hours and broken days.
"So," Baykuş said, his voice deep and cold, "the Eye chose you. But you are blind. The Eye is a jailer. The Shadow is freedom. Why protect the prison of time?"
Ali gripped the stone. "Because without time, there's no life. Only emptiness."
Baykuş laughed. "Life? Look around you. Time steals everything. It ages you, breaks you, kills you. I will give the world release. I will let it be reborn without chains."
The Whisper Clock trembled. Another echo struck. The fourth. Only one remained.
Ali felt the Eye within his chest awaken. Light burst from him, showing the past and future like maps in the air. He saw Baykuş as a child, lost and afraid. He saw him as a man, betrayed by those he trusted. And he saw his future—trying to break time to heal his pain.
Ali whispered, "You're not freeing us. You're just rewriting your sorrow."
Baykuş roared, raising his chains. Shadows rose like waves, ready to erase everything.
---
Another Truth
Then Elias appeared. He was broken, scarred, barely standing, but alive.
"Ali!" Elias shouted. "The theory was wrong. It's not just five echoes—it's five choices. Each echo is a choice made by someone with the Eye or the Shadow. That's the real battle. Not power, but choice."
Ali's heart pounded. He understood. The Eye didn't control time—it guided those who carried it to make choices. Each decision was an echo. And the fifth would decide everything.
The Whisper Clock rang again. The fifth echo.
Baykuş raised his chains.
Elias lifted the broken red device.
Ali held the stone.
Three choices.
One truth.
---
The Choice
The Eye whispered in Ali's mind: "You can erase him. Or you can rewrite him. Or you can forgive him."
Ali looked at Baykuş, then at Elias, then at the clock. He felt the weight of every life, every moment, pressing down on him.
He could destroy Baykuş. That would end the Shadow.
He could rewrite him, change his past. But would that be right?
Or he could forgive him, risk everything, and hope that Baykuş could change.
Ali took a deep breath. "I choose…"