The world was quiet for the first time in forty-eight cycles.Too quiet.
Riven Solas stood amidst the ruins of the city — no screams, no collapsing timelines, no flickering suns. Just silence and the faint hum of static in the air. The neural band on his wrist was dead now, its once-blinding light dimmed to a dull ember.
He looked at his hands. The veins beneath his skin glowed faintly — half crimson, half blue — the colors of the Architect's eyes. His pulse echoed with a rhythm that wasn't entirely human.
"Riven," Lira whispered behind him. Her voice was soft, careful. "You did it. You… actually did it."
Riven didn't answer immediately. He could feel the Architect inside him — the fury, the despair, the cold logic that had once driven it to destroy everything. But he could also feel something else, something deeper. A whisper beneath reality.
"Something's wrong," he said at last. "It's too still. Time isn't flowing… it's waiting."
Lira's face paled. "Waiting? For what?"
Before Riven could respond, the second sun above flickered. It pulsed once, twice — and then shattered, breaking into streams of light that fell like burning rain. Each streak hit the ground, dissolving into a shimmering mist.
Out of that mist, a figure began to form.
It wasn't the Architect. It wasn't a reflection. It was something older — a being draped in fractured time itself. Its form flickered constantly, as though reality could not decide what it should look like. When it spoke, the sound wasn't a voice, but a vibration in the bones.
"You've gone too far, Solas."
Riven's breath caught. "Who are you?"
The being tilted its head, features warping in and out of focus — sometimes a man, sometimes a woman, sometimes a void.
"I am the one who began the cycles. The first traveler. The one who made you."
Lira gasped, stepping backward. "That's… impossible. The First Traveler is just a myth. You— you died centuries ago!"
The being's gaze turned toward her. "Death is relative when you command eternity. You should know that, Lira of the Fifth Loop."
Riven froze. "Fifth… loop?" He turned to her. "You said this was your first!"
Lira's face twisted with guilt. "Riven… I lied. I didn't want you to remember me from before. The loops break people differently. In your earlier versions, you weren't—"
"Enough," the First Traveler's voice thundered. "You've both tampered with what was meant to end. Every cycle was designed to collapse upon itself, purging the anomaly you became."
Riven's hands trembled. "You created this nightmare. The loops, the Architect, the deaths. You made me live it again and again!"
"I made you because you were necessary," the being said, its tone calm, patient — almost pitying. "You were the core variable, the one capable of stabilizing the fractures caused by my experiments. But you were never meant to survive them."
Lira's eyes widened. "You used him…"
"I used both of you," the First Traveler said. "And now that the Architect is merged within you, you've become the perfect vessel. The final equation is complete."
Riven's body spasmed — the Architect's voice echoing faintly in his head:"He's lying. Don't trust him… or her… or anyone."
He gritted his teeth. "If you made me… then you made your own mistake."
The First Traveler's expression flickered, a hint of curiosity crossing its ever-changing face. "And why is that?"
Riven lifted his head, eyes burning with that same crimson-blue light. "Because I'm not your variable anymore. I'm the result you can't predict."
The world trembled. Fractures split the ground, reality warping under the pressure of two impossible forces — Riven's unstable existence and the Traveler's control.
Lira screamed as time itself shattered around them, sending shards of memories cascading through the air like broken glass. Riven reached for her, but the Traveler raised a hand.
"You think you've won, Solas. But you've only moved one step closer to the end. The next loop won't belong to you. It will belong to me."
And in an instant, the Traveler vanished — taking Lira with them.
Riven fell to his knees, clutching his chest as his heartbeat fractured, syncing to the echoes of time. The silence returned, but now it was suffocating.
He looked up at the sky, where only one sun remained — pale and dying.
And he whispered, his voice breaking:"Then I'll tear time apart itself… until I get her back."