They fell through silence. No wind. No light. Only an endless, suffocating stillness that pressed against their lungs and froze their thoughts.
Then, suddenly, they landed softly—not on stone, not on earth, but on something that shimmered like glass and rippled like water. Beneath their feet stretched a surface that reflected the stars, an infinite horizon where sky and ground were indistinguishable.
The Realm of Time.
A voice neither cruel nor kind spoke, resonating like an ancient clock tolling across eternity:"Welcome, players. This is the place where all threads meet. Here, you will see what was… and what could yet be. Whether you endure depends on what you choose to believe."
The heroes exchanged uneasy glances. The silence of the nightmare realm had been suffocating, but this silence felt different—expectant, watchful.
Shattered Reflections
Pillars of light rose around them, each one forming into shifting panels of glass. Within the panels, images stirred—memories not of this game, but of their lives before it.
Carlos stared at one panel and felt his throat tighten. He saw himself hunched over a desk in his apartment, piles of fast-food wrappers on the floor, his life repeating in an endless cycle of work, sleep, game. A life he had once thought safe, but now looked hollow.
Lys's reflection showed her kneeling in a burned village, her sister's body clutched to her chest, flames devouring everything around her. She trembled but did not look away.
Rina's panel replayed betrayal after betrayal—her knives always finding a friend's back. Yet in the reflection, she wasn't triumphant. She was always alone.
Thalor's glass showed him leaving home for war, his brothers saluting him one final time. None of them returned. He dropped to his knees, shield heavy in his hand.
Maren's vision was the most violent: an entire village turned to ash by fire that flowed from her hands. She screamed, powerless to stop it, as families burned and begged.
The panels shattered.
The pieces swirled in the air and then reformed—not into memories, but into possibilities.
Futures That Should Not Be
Carlos saw a possible future where he never removed the Helm—where his body withered in the real world while his mind became a permanent prisoner of endless realms. He screamed in that vision, yet the Helm pulsed with satisfaction.
Lys's future showed her standing triumphant, alone atop a pile of corpses—her allies, her enemies, her sister's shade. The Helm whispered that her strength was her curse: that she would outlive everyone she cared about.
Rina's future showed her betrayed in turn, daggers in her back, gasping for breath while faceless shadows laughed.
Thalor saw himself finally breaking, his shield cracked, his brothers' voices condemning him not with anger but with pity. "You were never enough."
Maren saw herself embraced as a goddess of flame, entire civilizations kneeling before her. Yet in their worship, she saw their fear. A god loved by none, feared by all.
The heroes staggered, clutching their heads. The visions burned.
The Hourglass Guardian
The glass beneath their feet trembled. From the void rose a colossal hourglass, sand flowing upward instead of down. A figure formed within it—half-clockwork, half-shadow, eyes gleaming like polished brass.
"I am Chronis, Guardian of the Helm," it intoned. "If you wish to pass this realm, you must confront the truth of your threads. Fail, and you will be trapped in endless repetition."
The guardian raised its hand, and the glass panels scattered into the air, transforming into dozens of versions of themselves—alternate realities made flesh.
Carlos faced a version of himself already hollow-eyed, enslaved to the Helm. Lys faced a future self, older, colder, her humanity gone. Rina faced a sneering rogue who cared for nothing but survival. Thalor faced himself broken and kneeling before Kael, a loyal servant of shadow. Maren faced a blazing goddess who laughed at the screams of her subjects.
The battle began.
Fighting the Futures
Carlos swung the Blade of Ascension against his darker self, every strike feeling like it split his own soul. His double matched him perfectly, every move anticipated.
Lys fought with fury against her colder self, arrows clashing midair, every shot a mirror of her own skill.
Rina dueled in silence, dagger against dagger, every feint met with flawless counters.
Thalor clashed against his corrupted self, shield against shield, armor against armor, the sound like thunder.
Maren's firestorm met her goddess-self's inferno, the cavern exploding in light so fierce it blinded them all.
They were not just fighting shadows. They were fighting the possibility of becoming these monsters.
Breaking the Cycle
As their strength waned, Carlos realized brute force could not win. He shouted across the battlefield:
"They're not enemies—they're warnings! They only win if we believe them!"
Lys faltered, her arrow quivering as she whispered, "I am not cold. My grief doesn't make me heartless." Her double shattered into glass and dissolved.
Rina roared, plunging her dagger into her reflection's heart. "I am not betrayal—I choose loyalty now!" Her double broke apart in shards.
Thalor raised his shield high, his voice booming. "I am not broken—I live to honor them!" His corrupted self exploded into dust.
Maren stood trembling, fire roaring at her fingertips. Her goddess-self sneered, daring her to unleash destruction. But Maren whispered: "I am not your fear. I am fire—and I protect." Her double screamed as it vanished.
Carlos locked blades with his Helm-enslaved self, both gritting their teeth.
"You are me," the reflection hissed. "This is your destiny."
Carlos pushed back, light blazing from the Blade of Ascension. "No. You're just what I could be if I quit fighting. And I will never stop fighting."
With one final strike, the reflection shattered.
The Guardian's Judgment
Chronis lowered its brass gaze. The sand in the hourglass stopped flowing.
"You have seen yourselves and refused despair," it said. "You carry scars, but also strength. You may proceed."
The hourglass split in half, and a radiant doorway formed from its broken frame.
But as the heroes stepped toward it, Chronis's final words followed them:"Beware. You have passed the Realm of Time, but time itself is never your ally. It is watching you still."
And then, once again, the ground fell away.