The world was unfolding.
The cracks that had split the Eternal Garden were no longer mere fractures—they had become portals. Within each one, a different reality was reflected: worlds that could have existed but were never created. Some were echoes of the familiar—Gardens that had bloomed and withered before they were ever planted, roads that no one had walked. Others were chaotic, filled with shapes that defied the laws of time.
And from these portals, figures emerged.
They were unlike the Creators or the Keepers. Their forms constantly shifted, as if they could not settle on a single shape. Some resembled humans, others—something entirely unfamiliar, with deep shadows instead of faces and glowing symbols on their skin. They did not walk—they flowed, moving as if space itself adjusted to their steps.
Emiren stood among them, feeling his heart beat in sync with this new rhythm of reality.
— Who are they? — Ardalys took a step back, his hand trembling slightly.
— They are us, — Emiren replied.
Ardalys flinched.
— What do you mean?
— They are what we could have been. Those who were never born.
His voice was firm, but deep inside, an unsettling realization grew—he did not fully understand what was happening yet.
“We are only one possibility. But what if all the others also have the right to exist?”
One of the beings stepped forward. Its body, almost transparent, briefly became more defined. It had a face eerily similar to Emiren’s—the same eyes, the same features—but its reflection kept shifting, showing dozens of versions of itself.
It spoke.
— You have opened doors that were never meant to be opened.
Its voice was not a voice—it was the echo of all versions of Emiren’s existence, of all the paths he could have taken.
— I have created a possibility, — Emiren answered.
— Possibility is a threat, — the being said.
Ardalys crossed his arms, his gaze tense.
— If they are alternate versions of us, why do they speak as if we have done something terrible?
The being smiled.
— Because we know what happens when too many possibilities become reality.
The ground beneath them trembled again. The cracks widened. Lines spread from them, cutting through space itself, forming new knots of time. The Eternal Garden was no longer whole—it was fragmenting, simultaneously existing and not existing.
Emiren felt a vision overtake him.
He saw endless chaos—worlds overlapping, infinite Emiren struggling for the right to be real. Each with their own story, their own choices. But as soon as they all became possible, the boundaries between them blurred, and the world turned into an endless storm of events that could not coexist.
“This is what they fear.”
Emiren stepped forward and looked the being directly in the eyes.
— Are you saying that I have created chaos?
— You have created something without limits. And anything without limits cannot exist.
The being raised its hand, and symbols of light flickered between its fingers. These were the same signs Emiren had seen in the dark sky when he first heard the song of possibilities.
— But it is not too late to close these doors, — it said.
The Keepers stepped forward.
— Restore balance, — their voices rang out, — while there is still time.
A cold weight settled in Emiren’s chest.
“To restore balance means to destroy what I have created. To close the doors. To erase the existence of those who have already taken their first step into this world.”
— I… — he did not know what to say.
But before he could find an answer, one of the beings—the one that resembled him—changed. Its body turned black, its outline dissolving into shadow.
And it lunged at him.
The world exploded into conflict.
The figures from the cracks no longer stood still—they rushed forward, blending chaos and order into a storm of light and darkness. The Keepers raised their hands, forming barriers, but even they could not stop what had begun.
Ardalys drew a blade from his essence, a weapon forged from time itself, moving with precision and speed.
— We need to stop this!
But Emiren knew there was no simple way back.
His own reflection—the one that had attacked him—was fast as the wind. It merged with the shadows, its strikes tearing through space itself.
Emiren dodged, his mind searching for a way out.
“I cannot destroy them. But I can accept them.”
And then he understood.
He stopped moving.
And when his reflection struck again, Emiren did not retreat, did not defend himself. Instead, he opened himself to the attack—embraced it.
His twin’s essence collided with him. And in that moment, instead of battle, there was fusion.
Light and shadow intertwined.
And all the other beings who had stepped through the portals felt it.
For a brief moment, they froze.
The Keepers halted.
Ardalys stood still, his time-forged blade still glowing in his hand.
Emiren opened his eyes.
He was no longer just himself.
He was all the versions of himself that could have existed. And he held them in balance.
— I will not close these doors, — he said. — But I will learn to control them.
The world went still.
And the Eternal Garden began to change once again.