A Forest That Remembers
The sky in this world looked wrong.
It wasn't just the soft lavender tint in place of familiar blue—it was how the stars moved. They spun in slow spirals, shifting gently like a galaxy breathing above the treetops.
Arin sat beneath the glowing roots of a colossal tree, its bark lined with glowing etchings—symbols that pulsed in sync with his heartbeat.
"I'm in a different dimension," he muttered. "This tree… it's alive."
"Not alive," Kairos corrected. "Awakened. This world is tethered to a lost branch of Time. Most of it lies dormant. But some parts—like this forest—remember."
Arin ran his fingers along one of the glowing grooves. A rush of images hit him.
A war.
A city crumbling beneath twin moons.
And Astra Ny standing atop a tower, her eyes glowing—her voice cold.
> "End the loop, Arin. End yourself."
He jerked his hand back.
Kairos floated closer. "This tree stores imprints from faded timelines. The Astra you saw—she's not here yet. But her echo lingers in many worlds."
"She knew my name."
"She always will. In every version."
Arin stood, the soil beneath his feet warm, the wind scented with metal and pine.
Then a whisper echoed through the forest.
> "...You finally came back."
He turned, startled.
A woman stepped from between the trees. Older, wrapped in robes that shimmered with embroidered star-charts. Her left arm was mechanical, whirring softly as it moved. A wide scar crossed her cheek.
But her eyes—they lit up when she saw him.
"You're... alive."
Arin blinked. "Do I know you?"
She smiled bitterly. "No. But I knew a version of you that didn't make it. You… you came through the Skybreak again."
He took a cautious step forward. "Who are you?"
"I am known here as Valen Thorne, the Last Archivist."
---
The Last Archivist
Valen led him to a ruin deeper in the woods—what looked like the remains of an ancient observatory. The inside was filled with floating orbs of memory-light, each containing moments of history: storms, wars, conversations, births, betrayals.
She poured him a glowing drink that tasted of mint and electricity, and sat across from him beside a fire.
"You're the first Arin I've seen survive a Riftborn encounter and fall through a Skybreak without splintering."
He tilted his head. "You've met other me's?"
She nodded slowly. "I've buried five."
Silence settled between them.
"They were all trying to fix something," she continued. "Some died by Astra's hand. One vanished mid-sentence. One… turned on us."
Arin's eyes narrowed. "Why are we doing this? What are we trying to fix?"
Valen turned to face a massive mural, cracked and faded. It depicted a massive wheel, surrounded by threads of light and darkness—wrapped around a single figure at its center.
The name at the base read:
> KAIROS — THE FIRST FRACTURE.
Kairos shimmered quietly beside Arin, its voice reverent. "This place remembers even what Time has tried to forget."
Valen gestured at the mural. "The Fracture began when someone tried to rewrite a fixed point in time—a moment meant to happen. That someone was Astra Ny."
Arin's pulse quickened. "She caused all this?"
"She tried to save someone. She broke the rules. And the Chronos System responded by splitting everything. Multiple timelines, corrupted loops, paradox anchors. And you…"
She looked at him solemnly.
"…you were the balance."
---
The Fracture and the Choice
Valen retrieved an orb from a locked case. Inside was a vision:
A future Arin, standing amidst ash and broken sky, surrounded by corpses—his hands glowing as he shouted into the void.
"No more resets!"
The orb pulsed and went dark.
"That is the end of one path," Valen said. "But paths shift."
Arin clenched his fists. "Why me? Why all versions of me?"
"Because the Chronos Core doesn't bond randomly. It bonds with potential. And in every timeline, you're the one person who chooses differently when it matters."
She stood.
"But be warned: Astra is not the only one watching you. And next time she appears… she might not remember which version of you she's already killed."
Arin exhaled slowly.
"…Then I better make sure this version of me is ready."
---
System Message
Just then, the system flickered.
[Chronos Core Alert]
> New Environment Detected: Temporal Glade
Local Timeflow: 0.85x
Dimensional Integrity: Fragmented
New Ability Potential Unlocked: "Temporal Anchor"
Description: Bind a moment in time to restore later. Cooldown: 24 real-time hours.
Status: LOCKED — requires Synchronization 10%. Current: 6%
[Main Quest Updated]
> Survive the Next Convergence
Status: Unknown
Countdown: 11 Days, 3 Hours, 17 Minutes
---
Arin stood before the mural, the firelight dancing against stone.
The countdown had begun. The world had changed.
And now… he was no longer running.
He was learning to stand.
The Children of the Forest
Valen's ruin hummed quietly under the weight of time.
Arin awoke after a few hours of dreamless rest, his mind clearer than it had been since the accident. Kairos hovered beside him, a pale glow in the shadows.
"You are stabilizing. The Core is responding to your will. With practice, you'll shape reality as easily as breath."
"I still don't know what I'm doing."
"You don't need to. You're not trying to predict time. You're learning to rewrite it."
Suddenly, a child's scream echoed from the forest.
Arin was on his feet instantly.
Valen burst into the observatory moments later, her robes swaying with urgency.
"There's a Rift opening in the glade near the Echo Grove. I sent scouts—two young ones—but the Riftborn found them first."
Kairos's voice rang like a bell. "Another rupture. It's too soon."
Valen looked at Arin. "I know you're not ready. But if the Rift opens fully, this entire zone will collapse. We'll lose the Grove... and the children."
Arin's heart pounded.
"I'll go."
Valen looked surprised. "Alone?"
He nodded. "You said the Core responds to choice. Then this is mine."
The Temporal Anchor
The trees grew thinner as Arin ran, guided by the pulses of the Chronos Core. Ahead, he could already feel the shift—air thinning, heat distorting, the pull of time folding inward.
He reached the grove.
Two children were cornered beside a shallow pond, a monstrous Riftborn dragging its broken limbs through the warped grass. This one was different—its gear-head spun erratically, leaking smoke, its body pulsing with unstable matter.
[Warning: Entity Class Delta – Temporally Unstable]
Arin crouched behind a stone and whispered, "Options."
[Option 1: Distract and Flee – 62% success] [Option 2: Confront and Use Echo Pulse – 34% success] [Option 3: Activate Anchor. Engage Loop if Needed – UNLOCKED]
[Ability: Temporal Anchor Available. Bind current moment?]
He exhaled. "Do it."
The air shimmered. Everything froze for a breath—birds mid-flight, wind paused, light crystallized.
[Anchor Set.]
Arin stood and stepped out from behind the stone.
"Hey! Over here!"
The Riftborn twisted toward him, its eye-wheel spinning faster.
Arin held his ground.
Then, he blinked left—Chrono Reflex kicking in—dodging the creature's lunge. It crashed into the pond, sending boiling water hissing into the air.
He grabbed one of the children and shouted at the other. "Run! To the trees!"
But the Riftborn recovered fast. Too fast.
It lunged again—and this time, claws reached the second child.
[Anchor Triggered. Restoring Moment.]
Reality snapped back.
Arin stood behind the stone again, heart racing—but he remembered everything.
The Core whispered: "Time is your second chance."
He didn't hesitate. This time, he didn't call out. He crept to the edge, picked up a heavy shard of broken pillar, and hurled it toward the Riftborn's spine.
It hissed, turning—just as the first child ran.
Arin charged. A reckless move.
But that was the point.
He ducked under the Riftborn's claw, grabbed the second child, and threw himself into a patch of collapsed time.
The Frozen Moment
Inside the collapsed pocket, time was fractured—sound echoed ten seconds late, light bent wrong, and motion lagged. But it was safe.
For now.
He hugged both children close, waiting until the Core stabilized the pocket.
Minutes later, Valen arrived with help. The Rift had closed. The forest calmed.
"You did it," she said softly.
Arin looked at the two children, now safe, crying in her arms.
"No. Time did."
The Final Message
That night, Arin returned to the observatory.
Kairos hovered quietly, words slow and thoughtful.
"Synchronization increased: 10% achieved." [Ability Unlocked: Temporal Anchor — Cooldown begins.]
Arin looked into a pool of still water beside the ruins. His reflection stared back—older somehow, more certain. A man who had risked himself not for glory, not for revenge, but because it was right.
Then the water changed.
A flicker. A face.
Astra Ny.
She stood in a dark chamber lit by spiraling rings of broken stars, her eyes distant, her voice cold.
"You're getting stronger. That means you'll break the loop again. And when you do... I'll be waiting."
"This time, I'll remember which version of you needs to die."
Her image vanished.
Kairos's light trembled.
"She sees you now."
Arin clenched his fists.
"Good. Let her watch."