The air was still, as though time itself had ceased to exist. The sky, once filled with golden brilliance and endless streams of light, now appeared empty—without color, without life, without meaning. Melania stood at the edge of this boundless space, where even the slightest movement seemed a crime against the silence.
This was a halt. Eternity, which had always pulsed with the rhythms of existence, was now frozen. All that remained of its former grandeur were strands of light, swirling through the air, searching for their place in the new reality.
“This place… it feels dead,” Melania said softly. Her voice dissolved in the vastness, as if even sounds had no place here.
Antem stood nearby, carefully watching the threads of light that flickered around them.
“It is not dead,” he said after a long pause. “But it is not yet alive. Eternity is now like a stopped clock. We cannot move forward until someone makes it run again.”
“Someone?” Melania felt the bitterness in her voice. “But I stopped it. And now… I don’t know how to fix it.”
Antem said nothing. He knew this burden rested on her shoulders, but there were no words that could comfort her.
The silence was suddenly shattered by heavy footsteps, which echoed through the space. From the remnants of light, a man in a dark cloak appeared. His black hair fell over his shoulders, and his eyes burned with an unusual resolve.
“Endar,” Antem said, his voice tense.
Melania turned. She didn’t know this man, but his presence stirred a mix of fear and curiosity within her.
“If you’re here, it means your teacher is somewhere nearby,” Antem said, taking a step forward.
“He is no longer my teacher,” Endar replied coldly.
Melania studied him, trying to understand who he was. There was deep fatigue in his gaze, but also a thirst for action.
“Why are you here?” she asked, not hiding her distrust.
Endar met her gaze, and a shadow of a smile appeared in his eyes.
“Because you stopped what you didn’t understand,” he said. “And now Eternity is in a state where it needs direction. If you don’t know how to do it, I can help.”
“Why should we trust you?” Antem asked.
“Because I know what will happen if we don’t,” Endar replied, pulling a shard from his pocket that resembled a crystal. It flickered with light, similar to the threads that lingered around them.
“This is a part of the old Eternity,” he explained. “Its last remnant. If we want to teach the new Eternity, we must begin with this.”
Melania stepped forward, stopping just within arm’s reach of Endar.
“Why do you want to help?” she asked.
“Because I know what will happen if we don’t,” he repeated. “And because I want to atone for my mistakes.”
The silence returned, but this time it was heavier. Melania looked at Antem, who seemed confused.
“We’ll try,” she finally said, taking responsibility. “But if you betray us…”
“I know,” Endar said, his voice quiet. “And I’m ready to pay for it with my life.”
The light around them seemed to shudder. Eternity, frozen as it was, began to respond slightly, as though it was listening to their words. This was just the beginning, but already there was a sense that the space was preparing for change.