The world beyond the Shrine of Echoes felt different.
Not broken—
strained.
Eris noticed it the moment they stepped outside. The sky carried a faint distortion, like heat rippling over glass. The wind moved in uneven currents, pausing as if reconsidering its direction before continuing.
Kaelion noticed it too.
"The shrine's destruction sent a signal," he said. "Not a beacon… a ripple."
Eris adjusted the strap across his shoulder. "To the Watchers."
"And to anything else sensitive to fate-alteration."
They began walking down the mountain path, the ancient stones beneath their feet worn smooth by time. Below them, the valley lay quiet—too quiet.
Eris broke the silence. "If the Clan was right… and prophecy is a trap—then what are we supposed to rely on?"
Kaelion didn't answer immediately.
Finally, he said, "Judgment. Imperfect, human judgment."
Eris frowned. "That's it?"
"That's everything," Kaelion replied. "Prophecy removes responsibility. Choice forces you to own consequences."
A sudden tremor rippled through the ground.
Both of them stopped.
It wasn't an earthquake. It was sharp, localized—like something snapping into place beneath reality.
Kaelion's eyes narrowed. "We're being followed."
Eris's hand went instinctively to his side. "By what?"
Kaelion shook his head. "Not by who. By when."
The air behind them shimmered, folding inward. A fracture appeared—thin as a hairline crack in glass, glowing faintly silver.
From it stepped a figure cloaked in segmented light.
Not a Watcher.
Something… lower.
"Chronal Scout," Kaelion muttered. "They've sent a probe."
The figure tilted its head, faceless, featureless, scanning Eris with a beam of pale light.
Eris felt the Watcher's Trace stir again.
The scout spoke in a flat, echoing tone.
"Deviation confirmed. Subject exhibits noncompliant trajectory."
Kaelion stepped forward, blade half-drawn. "He's under my protection."
The scout paused.
"Protection is irrelevant. Observation continues."
The beam intensified.
Eris clenched his teeth. "Kaelion—"
"Hold steady," Kaelion said quietly. "This isn't a fight we win by force."
The scout raised one arm—
—and then froze.
The beam flickered.
Eris felt it—a pressure inside his core, subtle but firm. Not power surging outward… but refusal.
The scout's voice stuttered.
"Trajectory… undefined."
The fracture snapped shut.
The figure vanished as if it had never been there.
Silence returned.
Kaelion stared at Eris, eyes wide with something close to awe.
"You didn't resist it," he said. "You made it unable to measure you."
Eris swallowed. "I didn't mean to. I just… didn't accept what it was saying."
Kaelion sheathed his blade slowly.
"That," he said, "is exactly how this war begins."
They resumed walking—but now the path ahead no longer felt singular.
It felt like it was splitting