Time did not break loudly.
It cracked in silence.
Zeke didn't notice it at first. He was too busy watching the rain smear the city lights into streaks of gold and white across his windshield.
It was 11:47 PM.
Later, he would remember that time far too well.
His phone buzzed in the passenger seat.
Unknown Number.
He hesitated… then answered.
"Hello?"
Static.
Then a whisper.
"Zeke… don't turn left."
His fingers tightened around the steering wheel.
"What?"
The voice was soft. Female. Distorted, like it was traveling through water.
"Please. This time, don't—"
The call ended.
Zeke stared at the screen. No number. No trace.
"This time?"
The traffic light ahead flickered yellow.
Left would take him home faster.
Right would take him the long way.
His heartbeat felt strangely loud in his ears.
The light turned red.
He slowed to a stop.
His indicator blinked left.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
For a brief second, everything felt delayed—like the world was buffering.
He swallowed.
Then turned left.
Headlights exploded toward him.
A truck.
Too fast.
Too close.
"Damn it—!"
He jerked the wheel, but the rain-slick road betrayed him. The world spun violently—metal shrieking, glass shattering, gravity tearing him sideways.
Then—
Nothing.
Silence swallowed everything.
Wind brushed against his face.
Zeke inhaled sharply and bolted upright.
Grass.
He was lying on grass.
Bright sunlight poured over him. Birds chirped in the distance. No sirens. No city noise.
"What…?"
He looked down.
Leather armor.
Boots.
A sword strapped to his side.
His pulse hammered.
"This is a dream."
He stood slowly, scanning the horizon.
Rolling green fields stretched endlessly. Mountains loomed in the distance.
And there—
A massive stone castle pierced the sky, flags dancing in the wind.
His chest tightened.
"This isn't possible."
"Of course it's possible."
The voice came from behind him.
He froze.
Something about it felt… familiar.
He turned.
She stood beneath a tree, white dress flowing in the breeze. Long dark hair framed her face. Her eyes were deep and storm-colored, filled with something he couldn't name.
When she looked at him—
It felt like remembering something he'd never learned.
"You're late," she said softly.
Zeke frowned. "Do I know you?"
Her expression faltered. Pain flickered in her eyes.
"You always ask that."
A chill crawled down his spine.
"Always?"
The air shimmered.
The sky flickered like a broken screen.
Her form wavered slightly, as if she were made of light.
"Zeke," she said urgently, stepping closer. "This time, you have to remember."
"Remember what?"
She reached for his hand—
And the world shattered.
Darkness swallowed him again.
Zeke gasped and jolted upright.
Harsh white lights.
Beeping machines.
The sterile smell of a hospital room.
"You're awake!" a nurse called out.
His breathing was uneven.
It was just a dream.
It had to be.
He looked at his hands—no armor. No sword.
Just hospital sheets.
Relief began to settle—
Until he noticed his wrist.
A faint, glowing mark pulsed beneath his skin.
An ancient symbol.
Burning softly with his heartbeat.
And in the quiet space of his mind—
A whisper echoed.
"Find me again."