Time flows, yet I remain still. For centuries, I have watched the lives of mortals unfold. I have seen empires rise and crumble, love bloom and wither, dreams take flight and crash into oblivion. To me, time is but a river, one I stand above, never caught in its current.
Yet today, I stand on its banks, watching two souls embrace as if they had conquered fate itself.
Horace and Yue.
Their reunion is something I had not foreseen. I granted Horace the power to leap through time, fully expecting him to indulge in the greed of mortals—to chase perfection, to rewrite every failure, to shape his own future as he saw fit. He did, at first. But what followed... that was never part of my calculation.
He did not use his gift to hoard power, nor to alter destiny in his favor. Instead, he used it to save a single person. Over and over, knowing full well the outcome would remain unchanged. It was futile, and yet he persisted. He chose love over reason, devotion over survival.
How far will a human go for love?
That question lingers in my mind as I watch them in the distance. Their arms wrapped around each other, their foreheads pressed together, whispering words I cannot hear.
I do not understand them. And yet, as I stand here, I feel something unexpected—envy.
If I were human, could I love as deeply as Horace? Could I break the unshakable laws of time for the sake of one person?
A strange desire stirs within me. I wish to know. To understand.
For the first time in my existence, I will step beyond the role of an observer.
I will walk among them.
I will test this thing they call love.
I glance down at my hand, turning it over as though searching for something unseen. A mortal body... something so fragile, yet capable of defying the very flow of time. I close my fingers into a fist, feeling the weight of my decision.
"I suppose there is only one way to truly understand," I murmur. "I must descend."
The thought is both exhilarating and foreign. To leave this plane, to immerse myself in their world... I have always existed beyond it, untouched by its chaos, its beauty, its suffering. But if I am to find my answer, I must step into the current.
With a final glance at the entwined souls before me, I take a breath—not out of necessity, but out of some strange, instinctual preparation.
And then, I let go.
The descent is... strange.
A pull unlike any I have ever known tugs at my very essence. The flow of time, once beneath me, now surges around me, dragging me down. My form—ethereal, timeless—begins to solidify, shaping itself into something finite. The shift is unsettling, as though the limitless nature of my existence is being bound, caged.
Light bends, colors swirl, and for the first time, I feel the weight of gravity take hold.
"Ahhh!" The exclamation escapes me before I can stop it. My body spirals through an abyss, my surroundings shifting too rapidly to comprehend. Wind howls past me, or perhaps it is not wind at all, but the very fabric of reality tearing as I pass through.
I had imagined a smooth transition—graceful, effortless. This is anything but.
Then— the impact.
Cold, hard stone presses against me, the sensation jolting through my newly formed nerves. I am not used to pain, and though it is not overwhelming, it is... inconvenient. The acrid scent of rot and damp concrete invades my senses. Voices—distant at first—begin to filter in, muddled yet growing clearer with each passing second.
I force my eyes open, adjusting to the dim surroundings. A narrow space enclosed by towering walls stretches before me. Discarded objects—trash bags, broken crates, metal bins—line the alleyway. A stray cat perches atop one of them, its luminous eyes narrowing as it watches me with what I can only assume is suspicion.
I push myself up, blinking as I take in my own form. My once boundless presence is now contained in flesh, clothed in long, flowing fabric—a robe, though it now seems oddly impractical in this world. A strange sensation lingers within me, something I cannot quite name.
"That was... unpleasant," I mutter, brushing off debris from my sleeves. "Did I do something wrong?"
I push myself up, only to realize something else—fabric clings to my form. A long, flowing robe, the kind one might associate with monks or wandering mystics. It is not out of place for me; it is the garment of a Warden, the mantle I have always worn.
And yet, to these people, it is strange.
A group of pedestrians has stopped at the mouth of the alley. Some whisper, others merely gawk. A child tugs at her mother's sleeve, pointing at me.
"...Is he some kind of cultist?"
"No way, it's probably a performance thing."
"Maybe he's filming something?"
I blink. They think I am strange?
I take a step forward, and the crowd instinctively parts. A man quickly pulls out a small metallic object—a strange glowing rectangle—and holds it up, the screen reflecting my image. The glow from the device illuminates my face, my deep-set eyes, my sharp yet strangely human features.
"I think he's a street magician," the man mutters. "Dude's got the whole ancient sage aesthetic going on."
Street magician? I do not even know what that means.
Perhaps it is best not to linger.
Brushing past them, I step into the open streets. And suddenly—everything hits me at once.
The world is loud.
Metal beasts horns blare. People talk, shout, laugh. A towering structure with flashing images and bright colors looms ahead, its display changing every few seconds. The wind carries scents—roasted meat, fried dough, exhaust fumes, something unpleasant from a nearby drainage.
This is nothing like the slow, rhythmic flow of time I have always observed.
This is chaos.
I tilt my head up, my gaze traveling along the steel-and-glass giants that pierce the sky. Humans built these? They are impossibly large, yet they seem to serve no purpose other than existing.
A group of young people in strange clothing walk past me, one of them glancing at my attire and snickering.
"Bro, is this some kind of cosplay?"
"Don't stare, man. He might be crazy."
I frown. Cosplay? Crazy?
Humans and their words. They are more confusing than time itself. Sigh.
A deep rumble suddenly echoes through the streets. I turn, just in time to see a massive, metallic beast racing straight toward me. It is unlike anything I have encountered before—shining, moving unnaturally fast, growling as if possessed by a spirit of untamed energy.
I take a step forward.
A hand suddenly yanks me backward.
"Dude, what the hell?!"
A young man stares at me, wide-eyed. His grip on my arm is firm, his face twisted in shock. I follow his gaze just as the beast rushes past, wind whipping against my face. My heart pounds in my chest—another new sensation.
I blink. "What... was that?"
The man raises a brow. "A car, duh?"
I process the word. Car. A name for the metal beast. But... it makes no sense. How does something so large move on its own? Is it alive? Is it sentient? How many of these creatures roam this world?
"You're not from around here, are you?" The man sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. "Look, whatever medieval roleplay you got going on, just don't walk into traffic, alright?"
I stare at him. "...Traffic?"
The heck are all these weird words?
His face drops. "Oh, boy."
The city continues moving around us, indifferent to my confusion. I inhale sharply, scanning my surroundings once more.
And then it dawns on me.
I exhale slowly, my voice barely above a whisper.
"...I'm lost, aren't I?"
By the hands of time...