The glowing path twisted beneath Rotham's feet as he stepped into the unknown. The vibrant energy of the Choice Tree faded behind him, replaced by an eerie silence that pressed in from all sides.
The Seed in his hand pulsed with urgency—a heartbeat out of sync with the world around him.
Suddenly, shadows coalesced into forms—faces from his past, present, and futures that might never be.
Each whispered a sacrifice. Each demanded a toll.
"You can save her... but someone else must fall."
"Change your path, but lose a memory you hold dear."
"Choose peace for one world, and doom for another."
Rotham's breath caught. The weight of the Seed grew heavier, its light flickering.
Selin's voice crackled in his mind, steady but cautious:
"Every rewrite unravels threads elsewhere. The universe balances on choices, and the price is always paid."
His grip tightened until his knuckles whitened.
"I don't want to lose anyone. I don't want to cause more pain."
A low, rumbling voice responded from the darkness—deep and ancient:
"The Price is not optional, Rotham. It is the law of existence. To create, you must destroy. To build, you must sacrifice."
Rotham looked up to see a figure emerging from the shadows—a colossal being wreathed in cosmic light. Its eyes held galaxies, and its voice shook the very fabric of space.
"I am the Arbiter. Keeper of balance. Your choice will echo across all timelines. Choose wisely, Archivist."
Rotham swallowed the lump in his throat.
The Seed's glow intensified—pulsing faster, threatening to burn him alive.
With a trembling hand, he reached toward the path that shimmered with possibility.
The Price was clear.
But the future was his to forge.