Antem walked through the mist that enveloped the ruins of the old city. This place had once been considered the center of life, but now it was left with only fragments of walls and broken arches. Each step echoed in his mind, as if its reverberation altered the very fabric of reality. He felt a burden on his shoulders—not a physical one, but something greater, invisible, yet undeniably present.
Ahead, among the rubble, stood a figure. Its face was hidden beneath a hood, and its hands held chains that seemed to stretch into infinity. Each link was flawless, as if forged not by human hands, but by something larger.
— You have come closer to understanding, — the apparition spoke in a voice that resonated both outside and within Antem.
— What are these chains? — he asked, stopping at a safe distance.
The figure raised one of the chains and pointed to it. Antem saw scenes—fragments of life that changed with each new turn of the chain. People working, suffering, falling in love, losing… The chains kept them together, forcing them to live as they were accustomed, even when it felt absurd.
— Is this what you wish to destroy? — the figure asked, drawing closer.
Antem pondered. The familiar sensation of struggle rose within him, yet it now seemed that to dismantle the system was not merely a release, but a possible catastrophe.
— I want to know the truth, — he finally replied. — But I don’t know if I have the strength to change what comes after.
The figure stepped even closer, and Antem felt a chill.
— You have already changed more than you think. But change does not begin with the chains; it begins with those who bear them.
From those words, a new understanding began to form in Antem’s mind. The chains were not merely a burden; they also connected people, creating the illusion of order amidst chaos.
— Who are you? — he whispered.
The figure slowly lowered its hood. Its face turned out to be a mirror in which Antem saw himself. But in the eyes of this reflection, a flame burned fiercely, as if it had already made a choice that he had been avoiding.
— I am you when you stop being afraid.
With these words, the figure dissolved into the air, leaving behind only the chains, which gradually disappeared one by one.
Antem stood in silence, realizing that the chains represented his own fears, his past, his longing to cling to what he had already lost. To dismantle the system, he must first free himself.
He remained standing in the ruins, gazing at the spot where the figure had just vanished. The fog gradually dissipated, revealing the outlines of a new tower in the distance. It was different—dark, with an unusual shape, as if every line contradicted logic. It appeared unstable yet simultaneously magnetic.
His thoughts surged. The figure had said the chains were his fears and past, but was he truly ready to let them go? Was it worth releasing what kept him within the confines of the familiar world, even if that world was an illusion?
An answer began to form within him. It lay not in words but in a feeling—as sharp and pure as the first breath after being submerged in water for too long.
Antem moved forward again. Each step echoed heavily, but the burden he had felt earlier started to dissolve. It seemed that with each step, he was leaving behind something invisible yet significant.
As he approached the tower, its doors, made of dark metal, suddenly opened. Inside, there were no stairs or rooms—only a black emptiness in which formless lights floated. One of them flew closer, swirling around him.
— You have already made your first choice, — echoed from everywhere, though the voice was almost inaudible, like a whisper in the wind. — The next will be decisive.
The flickering light touched his forehead, and memories surged before his eyes. He saw himself as a child, the first time he heard about the Guardians of Eternity, and the moment he decided to become part of the system. He relived his pain at losing someone important, and the moment he first felt that time was a deception.
Antem wanted to push these visions away, but he realized: they were not a punishment, but a reminder. His path to the truth lay through acceptance.
When the visions faded, the flickering light extinguished and disappeared. The emptiness filled with a faint glow, and before Antem appeared a new artifact—a slender, nearly transparent clock, devoid of hands.
— This is a pendulum without motion, — the voice explained. — It will reveal your next path to you, but using it requires a great sacrifice.
Antem reached out and took the clock. His body was enveloped in warmth mixed with pain, but he did not let go. He knew there was no turning back now.
A new choice awaited him. And this time, he was not afraid to make it.
Antem examined the artifact in his hands closely. It was light, almost weightless, yet the feeling that something monumental depended on him weighed heavier than any physical burden. The transparent casing of the clock shimmered with a faint light, and inside, instead of a mechanism, it seemed as if liquid shadow flowed.
“Pendulum without motion”—those words echoed in his mind. But what did they mean? How was he supposed to use this thing?
Antem sighed and carefully tucked the artifact into his bag. A decision still needed to be made, but he knew: he had to act quickly. With every step he took, something in the world shifted. Perhaps the stilling of the pendulum in the previous tower had already triggered a disruption in the system, and now it would begin to defend itself.
As soon as he stepped beyond the tower, the fog finally dissipated, revealing a new landscape before him. A narrow path stretched across an endless valley, surrounded by sharp, knife-like cliffs. It felt as though the entire terrain was trying to push him away, creating a sense of unwelcome. But the strangest thing was not that—the sky above him appeared torn. In places where a gray shroud had once reigned, gaps now appeared through which distant, twinkling stars could be seen.
Antem lingered for a moment on one of those gaps, and his heart froze. He felt as if the stars were looking back at him, sending a wordless message.
Suddenly, his thoughts were interrupted by a shadow that slid through the valley. It was swift and stealthy, but large enough to make him alert.
— I knew you were here, — resonated from behind.
Antem spun around sharply, his hand instinctively reaching for his dagger. Before him stood a man clad in a black cloak adorned with red markings resembling cogwheels. His face was concealed by a mask, but his voice sounded familiar.
— Who are you? — Antem asked, trying to suppress his anxiety.
— The one who is meant to bring you back, — the stranger replied. His voice was calm, but an underlying threat lingered within it. — You have broken the rules.
Antem felt something akin to anger awaken within him, mixed with determination.
— The rules are made to control us. But you know they are a lie.
The man remained silent for a few seconds, then slowly nodded.
— Perhaps you are right. But are you ready for the consequences? The gears of time do not forgive stoppages. And they are already coming for you.
— Time does not exist, — Antem replied firmly. — Therefore, neither do the gears.
— Strange to hear that from someone who still bears their mark, — the stranger said, pointing to the thin scar in the shape of a circle on Antem’s wrist.
Antem quickly hid his hand behind his back.
— If you’ve come to take me back, then you shall have to fight.
The man slowly drew a slender sword from beneath his cloak, which glowed with a soft blue light.
— I did not come for this, but if you insist…
Antem did not wait for him to finish. His dagger was already flying through the air, and his legs propelled him forward. Now, it was actions that would decide, not words.
Antem lunged ahead, feeling the blood pulse in his temples. The stranger, seemingly unhurried, moved with precision, calmness, almost coldness. The sword in his hand glinted in the dim light, intercepting Antem’s dagger with almost perfect ease.
The impact reverberated through Antem’s arm, but he quickly adjusted, flowing seamlessly into the next move. He twisted away, aiming for the man’s unguarded side. Their dance began—a deadly ballet of strikes and parries, with each movement echoing the rhythm of their resolve.
The air around them crackled with tension, and Antem’s senses sharpened. Every twist and turn felt consumed by the anticipation of what lay ahead. He could not allow himself to falter; he had seen too much, felt too deeply, and now there was no going back.
As the fight unfolded, shadows danced in the corners of his vision, but he remained focused on the opponent before him. In this clash, he was not just fighting for himself; he was fighting for the truth and the hope of a world reborn from its chains.
— You’re good, — the stranger shot back.
— But it’s not enough.
He swung his sword, and the blow was so powerful that Antem was knocked back, barely regaining his balance. A fire ignited in his chest—from rage, fear, and the feeling that his opponent knew something he did not.
— You’re not just a guard, — Antem said, squinting into the mask. — Who are you really?
The man tilted his head slightly, as if pondering whether to respond.
— I am one like you, — he finally said. — Once. Until I realized that the truth is worth nothing.
— Then why do you still serve the system?
— Because chaos is worse than illusion. And you are bringing it closer, even if you don’t understand what you carry.
Antem paused for a moment, but the stranger didn’t allow him time to ponder. His movements grew faster, his strikes more vicious. Antem struggled to evade the blows, slipping between the shattered rocks scattered across the valley.
Suddenly, his hand grazed a stone—smooth, round, and resembling an eye. This was no ordinary fragment; he felt an energy within it akin to that which the pendulum emitted.
Instinctively deciding, Antem grabbed the stone and clenched it tightly in his hand. In that instant, the air around him shifted. The world seemed to slow down—his opponent’s movements became sluggish, almost frozen, while the sword hung motionless in the air.
Antem seized the moment. He leaped forward, dodging the blade, and threw the stone into the ground between them. The impact unleashed a wave of light that dispersed the fog, forcing the stranger to retreat.
— This is not the end, — the man declared, standing at a distance. His voice no longer exuded confidence. — You don’t know what you are awakening.
With those words, he turned and vanished into the shadows, leaving Antem alone.
Antem stood amidst the debris, breathing heavily. The stone had disappeared, but the energy it had summoned still lingered in the air. The stars in the gaps of the sky now shone brighter, as if something in the world had shifted.
Antem felt that this was only the first encounter with someone who would become his most dangerous adversary. But now, he had to move forward. The towers awaited him. And with them—answers.
Antem pressed on, trying to calm his racing thoughts. The stranger felt familiar in an elusive way, as if their destinies had already intertwined. The mysteries surrounding the system deepened, and every answer brought with it new questions.
The valley he traversed gradually transformed. The skeletal cliffs made way for a plain covered in thick, dark grass. On the horizon, like emerging from the mist, outlines of another tower came into view. It was shorter than the others, yet it appeared ancient, as if constructed long before time began its reign.
As Antem approached, he felt a familiar tension in the air. This tower had no doors or windows. Its surface was smooth, like polished stone, and seemed entirely inaccessible. But he knew: there had to be a way in.
He stopped before it, pulled the artifact from his bag, and raised it so that it stood between him and the tower. The pendulum without motion glowed with a soft, dim light, and symbols began to emerge on the surface of the wall. They were spirals, reminiscent of those he had seen in his visions.
Suddenly, the ground beneath him trembled, and the wall before him began to part, creating a narrow passage. Warm, golden light spilled forth, mingled with a distant humming that resembled a heartbeat.
Antem inhaled deeply and stepped forward. Inside, he was greeted by a spacious hall illuminated by that same golden light. The floor was adorned with patterns of the same spirals, and in the center of the room stood a strange device—it resembled a mechanical clock, but without a dial. Instead of hands, shards of crystal whirled within it, casting reflections onto the walls.
Antem slowly approached, not taking his eyes off the device. As he drew closer, the artifact in his hand began to glow once more, and the device responded. The shards of crystal spun faster, and the space around the hall seemed to shift.
Time and reality flexed around him, and the air pulsed with potential. Antem felt a tug at his very essence as if the device was calling to him, inviting him to unravel the secrets it held. Whatever lay ahead, he knew he was on the brink of discovering truths that could change his fate forever.
Before him, a vision unfolded. He saw a world before the creation of time—calm, motionless, yet alive. People lived without fear of loss or transience, but also without the ambitions that drive change. This world was harmonious, yet strange, almost soulless.
The vision shifted. Antem witnessed how the system installed pendulums in each tower, forcing the world to flow. With the advent of time came emotions, creativity, and conflict. But the price was steep—an unending struggle and submission to a law that had not existed before.
A voice, deep and hoarse, jolted him from his trance:
— Now you understand. What will you choose: harmony without freedom or chaos in which everyone creates themselves?
Antem turned, but there was no one in the hall. The voice belonged to the system or the tower itself, which was now testing him.
— I will choose the truth, — he replied quietly, though doubt still flickered in his heart.
At his words, the device in the center of the room stopped. The crystal shards hung suspended in the air, and then one of them began to glow. It slowly descended into Antem’s hand.
— Your path continues, — the voice rumbled.
Antem grasped the crystal shard. Its shape resembled half of a pendulum. He understood that this was only part of the answer, and the upcoming trials would only grow more difficult.
The exit from the tower opened, and he moved forward, now even more convinced of his mission.