The dark void between the cracks of reality continued to expand, like a black flower blooming on the horizon. With each passing moment, it grew larger, swallowing light as if all times were simultaneously dying in its bottomless depth. Breathing became harder—the very atmosphere seemed to be losing its form, as if the world lacked the support to hold itself together.
Emiren felt his heart tighten with internal strain, as though something was trying to break through his own soul. He couldn’t see the enemy, but he could feel its presence—this rupture in reality was not just a result of their actions, it was a living entity that sought to restore its boundaries and return everything to zero.
“We’re already being taken,” whispered Ardalys, his voice low, but in it, there was a hint of anxiety. His eyes couldn’t tear away from the black waves rolling from the cracks.
Emiren didn’t answer, just watched as the cracks spread, devouring everything around them. It seemed as if the Earth itself was creaking under the weight of this universal surge. But the most terrifying thing was that with each passing moment, the void became more palpable. And it wasn’t just in the physical world—it was piercing through the very fabric of time.
“They want to take what we’ve created,” Emiren said coldly, his voice sharp like wind over fields that had never felt human footsteps.
“But can we stop them?” asked Ardalys, his gaze filled with worry as he tried to remain calm.
One of the Keepers stepped forward. His eyes glowed with blue light that had never reflected in reality. This was light that only existed outside of time, light that had witnessed endless epochs.
“We could stop them… but to do that, we need more than just power,” said the Keeper, his voice almost blending with the air itself. “We need time. We need to return to the beginning.”
Emiren understood. They couldn’t just stop it. They had to try to change the very foundation of what had happened, return time to the moment when everything began. But this meant even more risk than when they had opened the doors to possibilities. For no one could be sure that the return would not create even greater fractures in reality.
“How do we do that?” Emiren asked, staring intently at the Keeper.
The Keeper looked at him calmly, but there was something more in his gaze than mere knowledge. It was awareness. Awareness that every choice, every movement, could cost them everything.
“We can restore what was disrupted,” said the Keeper, “but only if we can return to the moment of the birth of this world. Only then can we stop them. At the moment when all possibilities had yet to exist.”
Emiren felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead. That meant one thing—they had to go through the very depth of time, through what even the Keepers were afraid to name, and face the beginning that could completely alter the course of history.
“I’m ready,” he said, without hesitation.
But Ardalys placed his hand on his shoulder.
“We can’t just destroy this world, Emiren. We can’t return everything to what it was. It would be like trying to destroy the very essence of what we’ve created.”
Emiren looked at him, feeling the anxiety that enveloped his whole body.
“But if we don’t try,” he replied, “we’ll let them consume everything.”
The shadows swirling around them began to slowly take form. And then it became clear: there was little time left. The decision had to be made now.
The Keeper raised his hand, and a lightning bolt flashed through the air. It wasn’t just a flash of light, but the essence of time itself that they had tried to call upon.
“Prepare yourselves,” he said. “Now we go to the beginning.”