The days before departure passed quietly.
The sea breeze that once carried the scent of battle now carried something different—anticipation. Change.
Retro stood at the edge of the docks, looking out toward the endless horizon, the morning mist curling around his legs. The ocean before him shimmered like liquid glass beneath the rising sun. It felt as though the world itself was holding its breath.
Behind him, the guild was alive again—not with chaos this time, but with purpose. Adventurers trained, merchants argued over supplies, and blacksmiths hammered out new blades to replace those lost to the sea.
Lea walked toward him, her gear packed, her sword polished, her hair tied back in a loose braid. She looked older than her years now—not in body, but in resolve.
Lea: "Everything's ready. The ship's been reinforced for long travel. Gronn even threw in extra supplies, though he says you still owe him a favor."
Retro smirked faintly without turning around.
Retro: "He's said that since the first war. I think he just likes reminding me."
Lea (chuckling): "Maybe he's scared you'll vanish again."
Retro's gaze remained fixed on the horizon.
Retro: "Not this time."
The wind shifted suddenly, whipping through the air in short bursts, rustling the sails of the docked ships. Lea looked up as the gusts seemed to move with rhythm—unnatural, almost alive.
Lea: "The winds feel strange today."
Retro: "They always do before a long journey."
He finally turned toward her, eyes reflecting both the dawn and the ghosts of the past.
Retro: "The Winds of Time… they change everything. You feel that?"
Lea tilted her head slightly.
Lea: "Feels like the world's moving again."
Retro (quietly): "It is."
He stepped forward, placing his hand on the hilt of his spectral sword. Though invisible for now, its faint hum resonated with the sea breeze—as if it, too, was restless.
A soft chuckle escaped him.
Retro: "Let's hope time's on our side this time."
Lea grinned.
Lea: "If not, we'll just beat it into submission."
Retro laughed quietly, the sound carried off by the wind.
Retro: "That's my girl."
The ship rocked gently against the dock, the ropes creaking like tired voices whispering farewell.
Retro took one last look back at the island—the guild walls, the mountains, the scars of battle—and then faced forward again.
Retro: "Three years, Lea. Three years, and we'll see home again."
Lea nodded, determination gleaming in her eyes.
Lea: "Then let's make those three years count."
The two of them stepped aboard the vessel as the sails unfurled. The wind howled—stronger, colder, filled with the echoes of unseen worlds.
The ship began to move.
Slowly at first, then steady, cutting through the mist and into the unknown.
And as the island faded into the horizon behind them, the Winds of Time carried their promise forward—toward the Redwoods, toward the past, and toward whatever fate still awaited them at the end of all things.
The voyage began in silence.
No storms, no monsters—just the quiet push of the tides beneath a pale sky.
Weeks passed. Then months.
Retro and Lea moved like clockwork—morning training on the upper deck, mid-day repairs, long evenings beneath the stars. The world had grown still in their absence, the oceans stretching endlessly in all directions, the air thick with the taste of salt and memory.
Sometimes Lea would hum softly while mending the sails, an old tune her mother used to sing. Retro would listen without saying anything, his gaze fixed on the horizon where the sky met the sea.
The winds were gentle but strange—almost deliberate, shifting just enough to keep them on course. They didn't fight against it. It felt… guided.
Every few nights, when the moon rose low and red, Retro would catch faint echoes in the air—like voices carried by the current. They weren't threatening. Just fragments of time, whispers of a world that had moved on without them.
Lea (one night, softly): "Do you ever wonder if they're still out there? Atlas, Nexus… even Mom?"
Retro leaned against the railing, his reflection fractured by the dark waves below.
Retro: "Wondering doesn't change much. But believing… that's what keeps me moving."
Lea smiled faintly.
Lea: "Then we'll believe together."
Retro smirked.
Retro: "That's my line."
The months continued their slow rhythm. The air grew warmer as they crossed from frozen waters into temperate seas, each sunrise glowing softer than the last.
By the end of the first year, land finally appeared—a small, green stretch of coastline breaking the monotony of blue. Retro stood on the deck as the crew cheered.
Retro (quietly): "First step's done."
Lea (stretching her arms): "And only two more years to go."
Retro laughed lightly, the kind that carried hope.
Retro: "That's the spirit, kiddo."
---
Meanwhile…
Far across the world, Nexus and Maris walked through a land swallowed by twilight. The air shimmered faintly—thick with mana, heavy with silence. The continent had changed since their last visit; the forests were darker, the ground alive with faint, glowing veins of energy.
Maris adjusted the straps of her travel pack, glancing toward Nexus, who crouched near the ground, examining a set of tracks half-buried in dust.
Maris: "Still think he's out here?"
Nexus: "If anyone could vanish for five years without dying, it's my father."
Maris frowned softly.
Maris: "That doesn't sound like a compliment."
Nexus (half-smiling): "It's not. It's the truth."
The tracks led deeper into a canyon, where the air rippled with faint energy—something ancient. Nexus placed his hand on the stone, feeling the pulse beneath the surface.
Nexus: "He was here… not long ago."
Maris knelt beside him, her merfolk eyes glowing faintly blue.
Maris: "The aura here—it's faint, but… divine?"
Nexus nodded.
Nexus: "Yeah. He's chasing something."
Maris tilted her head.
Maris: "Or it's chasing him."
The wind howled low through the canyon, carrying dust and whispers of forgotten relics. Nexus stood up, pulling his cloak tighter around his shoulders.
Nexus: "Then we keep moving."
Maris followed, her hand brushing his as they walked.
Maris: "Until we find him."
They disappeared into the shifting mist, the glow of Nexus's blade faintly illuminating their path.
And somewhere far away, on another shore, Retro's ship continued cutting through the waves—guided by the same unseen winds that carried his son's resolve.
The sound of waves faded behind them.
After a year of sailing under the eternal hum of the ocean, land felt almost foreign. The ship had docked on a worn stretch of coastline where red sands met black cliffs—silent, untouched. Nature had reclaimed much of what was once civilization; vines wrapped around shattered spires, and the remains of old ports lay buried beneath dunes and coral.
Retro stood knee-deep in the tide, his boots sinking slightly into the wet sand. The wind that once guided their sails now played softly through the reeds, whispering through the ruined coastline.
Retro (quietly): "Feels strange, doesn't it? Standing still after all that time at sea."
Lea adjusted her pack, her eyes scanning the overgrown horizon.
Lea: "It feels… empty. Like the world forgot about this place."
Retro (half-smiling): "Maybe it did. Or maybe it's just waiting for us to remember it."
They walked inland.
The air changed as they moved—salt giving way to pine, soft grass replacing sand. Days stretched into weeks. The path they followed wound through valleys covered in moss, across rivers that glowed faintly at night with drifting blue petals.
Retro often walked ahead, the faint shimmer of his spectral sword lighting the way when the moon hid. Lea followed close, humming softly, sometimes trying to mimic his calm stride, sometimes tripping over her own steps.
Their campfires became their clocks. Each night, they'd stop beneath the stars, share rations, and talk quietly.
Lea (one evening): "Do you ever think we'll see them again? Nexus, Atlas, Maris… even Mom?"
Retro paused while stirring the fire.
Retro: "If the winds of time have any mercy left in them… yeah."
Lea looked up at him, catching the faint smile at the corner of his lips.
Lea: "You don't sound sure."
Retro (calmly): "I've learned not to bet against fate. It's got a cruel sense of humor."
She chuckled, resting her head on her knees.
Lea: "Then I guess we'll laugh with it."
---
Weeks turned to months.
By the middle of their second year, they had crossed old borders—lands where the magic of the world had thinned but not died. They found remnants of lost kingdoms half-buried in dust, relics embedded in stone, and murals that still glowed faintly when touched.
Each ruin whispered of the world before the seal had fractured, when gods still walked among mortals. Retro studied them in silence, often brushing his hand across the carvings.
Lea (curious): "What do you think they were like? The gods?"
Retro (after a pause): "Loud. Proud. Powerful. Just like us."
Lea: "Just like us?"
Retro: "Yeah. They made mistakes too."
They rested near a waterfall one evening, where light poured through the mist like molten gold. Lea had fallen asleep against Retro's shoulder, her breathing soft, her expression peaceful.
He looked out at the water, his mind wandering—not to war, not to loss, but to home. The redwoods, the small cabin, the smell of rain and old wood. For the first time in years, the memory didn't sting.
It felt like a promise.
Retro (softly): "Almost there, kiddo. Just a little further."
---
Meanwhile — Nexus and Maris
The desert air was sharp and dry, carrying a faint metallic tang of mana residue.
For weeks, Nexus and Maris had been following traces—faint bursts of energy, fragments of frozen soil where no frost should have been. They were old, but not ancient. Fresh enough to mean only one thing.
Atlas had been here.
Maris crouched low beside a cracked stone, her palm hovering over it as ripples of blue light danced along her skin. The energy responded to her presence, forming a faint outline of a familiar sigil—the same one etched into Atlas's frost relic.
Maris: "It's his mark, alright… but it's unstable. Whatever he was doing here, it drained him."
Nexus knelt beside her, his violet eyes flickering as he examined the ground. His hand brushed over a shattered crystal embedded in the earth.
Nexus: "This… isn't just frost mana. There's something else. A divine trace, faint but real."
Maris (softly): "You mean he found it, didn't he? The relic."
Nexus didn't answer at first. The wind stirred, carrying dust and echoes of a colder time. Finally, he stood, tightening his cloak around his shoulders.
Nexus: "If he did, he's not the same man anymore."
Maris looked up at him, concern softening her features.
Maris: "You're scared of that."
Nexus: "I'm scared of what that relic might make him."
They continued forward, their path winding through the canyon into the edge of a half-buried ruin. Strange crystalline growths jutted from the ground, glowing faintly with pulses of azure and white. Each beat matched the rhythm of a heart—slow, deliberate, alive.
Maris (whispering): "It's breathing…"
Nexus: "The relic's influence still lingers."
She hesitated, clutching his arm.
Maris: "If this is where he was last seen… what if the relic didn't just consume him?"
Nexus: "Then we'll find out what it took—and what it left behind."
---
They pressed deeper into the ruins.
The walls hummed with low energy, ancient carvings shifting faintly in the torchlight as though alive. Shadows bent at impossible angles, moving slower than their bodies did.
Maris's voice trembled slightly.
Maris: "This place feels… wrong."
Nexus: "It's not wrong. It's frozen."
At the center of the chamber, they found it—an imprint on the ground, humanoid in shape, surrounded by shards of broken ice that still radiated heat. Nexus crouched, pressing his fingers to the imprint. His expression hardened.
Nexus: "This is where he vanished."
Maris's eyes widened.
Maris: "You mean—"
Nexus: "He didn't die. He was pulled through something."
The realization hit them both in silence. Atlas hadn't disappeared into the world—he'd fallen through it. Somewhere between realms, between moments in time.
Nexus rose, the faint glow of determination lighting his eyes.
Nexus: "If the gods' relics can bend the laws of this world… then we'll follow him beyond them."
Maris stood beside him, her hand brushing his.
Maris: "And if we find him?"
Nexus (quietly): "Then we bring him home. No matter what he's become."
---
Outside the ruins, the air shimmered faintly. Above them, the sky flickered like a broken reflection—tiny fractures forming in the blue.
Maris looked up, eyes wide.
Maris: "The sky's cracking again…"
Nexus: "Then we're running out of time."
They started moving again, their silhouettes vanishing into the dust. The trail of Atlas's relic pulsed faintly behind them, like a heartbeat guiding them forward.
---
Atlas's Perspective — Between Realms
The world around him was quiet—too quiet.
No wind. No sound. No breath but his own.
Atlas stood at the edge of something that wasn't quite reality. The ground beneath him shimmered like glass, fractured with veins of faint blue and gold light. Above him, the sky stretched in strange patterns—flowing in slow ripples like water reflecting a broken sun.
Time didn't move here. Or maybe it moved wrong.
He had stopped trying to count the days a long time ago.
The relic pulsed faintly in his hand, its light flickering in rhythm with his heartbeat. Every pulse carried whispers—distant, divine, impossible to ignore. It spoke of creation, of forgotten gods, of the moments before the first dawn. It didn't command him. It simply knew him.
And that frightened him more than anything.
He took a step forward. The world around him responded—the light on the ground bending under his foot like ripples across water.
Atlas (softly): "I'm not supposed to be here…"
The relic's glow dimmed, then flared brighter, as if disagreeing with him.
He sighed, his breath misting faintly in the still air. "Fine. Then tell me what I'm supposed to do."
For a long moment, nothing. Then, a sound—soft, almost human. The air before him shimmered, forming a faint outline of a figure, its features blurred but familiar.
Voice: "To fix what's broken, something greater must be broken still."
Atlas's ears flicked back slightly, his tail curling behind him in unease.
Atlas: "You sound just like him…"
Voice (fading slightly): "Maybe I am."
The echo vanished, leaving only silence.
He stared at the relic again. Its shape had changed since he found it—what once looked like a crystalline shard now resembled a living thing, its surface faintly pulsating like veins under skin. The deeper he bonded with it, the more alive it became.
He could feel Mystic's essence somewhere within it—distant, faint, like a memory of warmth in winter.
Atlas (quietly): "You're still here… aren't you?"
The relic hummed softly in reply.
He closed his eyes, focusing on the sensation. Suddenly, the stillness of the realm shifted—images flashed through his mind in rapid succession:
– A shattered city floating above storm clouds.
– A colossal black dragon sealed beneath chains of light.
– Retro standing beneath a blood-red sky, his sword drawn.
– And Nexus… calling his name from the other side of time.
Atlas gasped, falling to one knee, the relic burning hot in his hand.
Atlas: "So… the barrier's breaking again."
He forced himself to his feet, breathing heavily. The path before him was changing—the glass beneath his feet now forming a road of light stretching toward an unseen horizon. He didn't know where it led. But the relic pulsed brighter, urging him forward.
Atlas (under his breath): "Then I'll walk it. Whatever this is… wherever it leads, I'll find the end."
As he walked, faint footsteps echoed behind him—his own, or perhaps someone else's. For a brief second, he thought he saw Retro's silhouette reflected in the horizon, facing away, walking the opposite direction.
Atlas: "Retro…"
But when he blinked, it was gone.
The air shifted again, and a new presence emerged—familiar yet distant, its form cloaked in white and gold. A soft, ethereal voice echoed around him.
Voice: "You've found the Relic of Paradox, Atlas. You now walk where gods fear to tread."
He tightened his grip on the relic, his eyes narrowing.
Atlas: "If this relic can change fate, then I'll use it. No god, no corruption, no monster will decide our story again."
The light flared around him—blinding, consuming—and when it faded, the realm shifted once more.
Atlas stood now on a mountainside beneath twin suns, staring down at an unfamiliar world bathed in gold and shadow. He didn't know if it was the past, the future, or something beyond both.
But for the first time since he'd found the relic, he smiled faintly.
Atlas: "Let's see where time takes me."