The path forked an hour later.
Not physically—there was still only one road winding down the mountain—but in ways Eris couldn't see with his eyes. The air carried overlapping impressions, like echoes of footsteps that hadn't happened yet.
Kaelion slowed his pace.
"We're nearing a convergence zone," he said.
Eris glanced around. "It just looks like forest."
"That's the danger. Places like this pretend to be ordinary."
The trees grew denser as they descended, their branches arching overhead to form a natural canopy. Light filtered through in fractured beams, painting the ground in shifting patterns.
Then Eris noticed something wrong.
The birds were silent.
No insects. No wind in the leaves.
Just footsteps.
Not theirs.
Kaelion stopped and raised a fist.
From between the trees, figures emerged—three of them.
They looked human at first glance, dressed in travel-worn cloaks, weapons sheathed. But the way they moved was slightly off, like actors a fraction of a second behind their lines.
The one in front spoke. "Easy. We don't want trouble."
Kaelion's hand rested on his sword. "Then you chose the wrong place to walk."
The figure smiled—but the expression didn't reach its eyes.
"We're just passing through," it said. "Same as you."
Eris leaned closer to Kaelion. "They're not normal, are they?"
"No," Kaelion replied quietly. "They're Crossers."
The lead figure tilted its head. "That's an outdated term."
Kaelion ignored it. "Crossers exist between possible timelines. They survive by anchoring themselves to stronger paths."
The figure's smile sharpened. "Or by removing weaker ones."
The air tensed.
Eris felt pressure build in his chest—not fear, but awareness. The Watcher's Trace stirred again, cautious this time.
Another Crosser stepped forward. "The boy's unstable. His path fractures too much."
Kaelion's eyes hardened. "He's not for you."
The Crosser shrugged. "Everything is for someone."
The forest shifted.
For a split second, Eris saw overlapping versions of the clearing—some burned, some frozen, some empty of life entirely.
The lead Crosser extended a hand. "Come with us. We'll stabilize you."
Eris shook his head. "No."
The Crosser paused. "You didn't even ask how."
Eris met its gaze. "I don't need to."
Something snapped.
The pressure vanished.
The overlapping visions collapsed back into one reality.
The Crossers staggered, disoriented.
Kaelion moved instantly.
His blade flashed—not striking flesh, but cutting space. A clean arc sliced through the air, and the ground beneath the Crossers fractured into glowing seams.
The lead Crosser shouted, its form blurring. "You can't just sever a junction!"
"I can," Kaelion said coldly, "when it doesn't belong."
The seams closed.
The Crossers vanished—pulled away into disconnected paths, their anchors gone.
Silence returned to the forest.
Eris exhaled slowly. "They were feeding on futures."
Kaelion nodded. "And they won't be the last."
Eris looked ahead, where the forest thickened into shadow.
"If this keeps happening… won't more things come after us?"
Kaelion met his gaze. "Yes."
Eris squared his shoulders. "Good. I'd rather face them than become predictable."
Kaelion smiled faintly.
"Careful," he said. "That attitude is how legends start."
The forest closed in around them as they continued forward—
into paths that were never meant to meet.