Darkness.
The endless chamber of the Fourth Lock vanished without warning.
The mirror remained.
But it no longer reflected Kael.
Its surface had transformed into an endless black sky.
Two immense silver eyes slowly opened.
They were unimaginably large.
Cold.
Ancient.
Emotionless.
Unlike every previous encounter, the Watcher was not observing him from beyond reality.
For the first time...
It was looking directly at him.
The pressure alone caused the chamber to tremble.
Kael instinctively reached for his sword.
The Gardener's Key shimmered beside him.
The blue lantern Eli had entrusted to him burned brighter.
Yet...
Neither weapon nor artifact reacted with hostility.
The Traveler quietly spoke.
"Do not draw your blade."
Kael frowned.
"It is the Watcher."
"I know."
"Then why shouldn't I fight?"
The Traveler remained silent for a long moment before answering.
"Because this..."
"...is not the Watcher."
Silence.
Kael's grip loosened.
"What do you mean?"
The World Tree answered.
"What you are seeing is only an echo."
"A memory."
"The first moment humanity became aware that something beyond existence was watching."
The silver eyes continued staring at him.
They neither blinked nor moved.
They simply watched.
Then—
The chamber shattered.
...
Three thousand years ago.
The First Civilization.
Kael found himself standing atop an enormous wall overlooking a city unlike anything he had ever imagined.
It dwarfed every kingdom of the present age.
Countless bridges connected floating islands suspended in the sky.
Crystal towers reached above the clouds.
Mana rivers flowed through the streets like living light.
Millions of people filled the city.
Humans.
Elves.
Dwarves.
Beastkin.
Giants.
Dozens of races walked together.
No walls divided them.
No hatred separated them.
The city was alive.
Kael slowly whispered,
"So this..."
"...was the First Civilization."
The Traveler's voice carried quiet nostalgia.
"The greatest era the world has ever known."
"It was never perfect."
"But it dreamed."
As Kael watched the bustling city below, familiar figures appeared upon the wall beside him.
The First Son.
Young.
Smiling.
Old Rowan.
Without his wrinkles.
The Fourth Brother, looking no older than twenty.
The Stranger, silently reading a book while leaning against the stone railing.
They laughed together.
Argued.
Teased one another.
They looked...
Human.
Not the legends Kael had come to know.
Just friends.
Old Rowan nudged the First Son.
"You lost again."
"I was distracted."
"You've been distracted for three games."
The Fourth Brother burst into laughter.
"The great First Son defeated by a board game."
The First Son rolled his eyes.
"You cheated."
"I improvised."
"That's cheating."
"It isn't if you don't get caught."
Even the Stranger smiled faintly before returning to his book.
Kael couldn't help smiling.
It felt...
Peaceful.
This was the life they had fought to protect.
Then...
A bell rang.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
The laughter disappeared.
Every Guardian looked toward the sky.
Kael followed their gaze.
The clouds were splitting apart.
Not because of lightning.
Not because of magic.
Reality itself was opening.
A single crack stretched across the heavens.
At first...
Nothing happened.
Then...
The silver eyes appeared.
Far beyond the crack.
Watching.
The entire city fell silent.
Millions of people instinctively stopped what they were doing.
Children looked upward.
Merchants froze.
Birds dropped from the sky.
Mana rivers stopped flowing.
No one understood why.
Yet every living being felt the same thing.
They were being observed.
The First Son slowly whispered,
"...What is that?"
No one answered.
Not even the Stranger.
Because no one knew.
The eyes watched for several minutes.
Doing nothing.
Simply...
Watching.
Then they disappeared.
The crack in the sky closed.
Life slowly resumed.
People nervously laughed.
Some claimed it had been an illusion.
Others believed it was a blessing.
A few insisted it had never happened.
The Guardians remained upon the wall.
None of them spoke.
Finally, Old Rowan broke the silence.
"I don't like it."
The Stranger quietly closed his book.
"It wasn't looking at the city."
The First Son frowned.
"Then what?"
The Stranger slowly looked toward the enormous World Tree rising at the center of the civilization.
"It was looking..."
"...at the world itself."
The memory skipped forward.
Days became months.
Months became years.
Nothing happened.
The strange eyes never returned.
People gradually forgot.
Life continued.
Children were born.
Festivals were celebrated.
Wars were avoided.
The First Civilization flourished.
Until...
One ordinary afternoon.
A little girl dropped her wooden doll.
She bent down to pick it up.
When she stood again...
Her mother was gone.
Not dead.
Gone.
No body.
No blood.
No trace.
No memory.
The people nearby frowned.
"Was someone standing there?"
"I thought so..."
"Perhaps not."
Only the little girl cried.
"My mother!"
No one understood.
The same thing happened the next day.
An old fisherman disappeared while repairing his boat.
A baker vanished while taking bread from the oven.
A teacher ceased to exist in the middle of a lesson.
Each time...
Only one or two people remembered them.
Everyone else forgot within moments.
Kael felt a chill run down his spine.
"The erasure..."
The Traveler nodded.
"It began quietly."
"No monsters."
"No invasion."
"No battle."
"The Watcher did not destroy the world."
"It simply..."
"...began deleting it."
Kael clenched his fists.
The memory shifted once more.
The Hall of the World Tree.
The First Son stood before dozens of scholars.
Their expressions were grim.
Ancient records covered every table.
One elderly scholar trembled as he spoke.
"We've confirmed it."
The First Son looked up.
"Confirmed what?"
The scholar swallowed.
"When someone is forgotten by every living being..."
"They disappear."
Silence filled the hall.
Another scholar whispered,
"History itself is changing."
Maps had begun losing cities.
Books no longer mentioned entire villages.
Paintings contained fewer people than before.
It was as if reality had always been that way.
Only a handful of individuals still remembered the truth.
Old Rowan looked toward the World Tree.
"...Is there any way to stop it?"
The enormous tree remained silent.
Its leaves slowly drifted downward.
One landed in the First Son's hand.
A voice echoed through the chamber.
Not loud.
Not powerful.
Simply ancient.
**"If memory is being erased..."**
**"...then memory must be protected."**
Kael's eyes widened.
The Hall of Forgotten Names.
The Garden.
The Locks.
Everything...
Had begun from that single sentence.
The World Tree had not created those places after the civilization fell.
It had begun creating them...
The moment the first person was forgotten.
The memory slowly faded.
Back inside the Fourth Lock, Kael remained motionless.
His heart pounded.
He finally understood.
The Watcher had never been a conqueror.
It did not invade.
It did not slaughter.
It erased.
Entire civilizations disappeared not because they lost a war...
But because no one remained who remembered they had ever existed.
The silver eyes within the mirror slowly blinked.
For the first time.
A cold, emotionless voice echoed throughout the chamber.
**"Gardener."**
Kael's breathing stopped.
The Traveler's face changed.
Old Rowan's laughter vanished.
Even the World Tree fell silent.
Because...
For the first time in three thousand years...
The Watcher...
Had spoken directly to its chosen enemy.