Antem lay on the cold metal floor, his chest rising heavily with each breath. He felt the vibration of everything around him, as if the world had transformed into a pulsating mechanism. The compass in his hand flickered and dimmed, while the pendulum that once swung at the center of the mechanisms now stood still in its immobility.
The light from the chasm began to fade, leaving him in almost complete darkness. The echo of the explosion still resonated in his ears, but gradually, it was replaced by whispers—hundreds, perhaps thousands, of voices.
— You have awakened us, — one of them spoke, its tone low and almost inhuman.
Antem jerked his head up, peering into the depths before him. In the darkness, something moved—not mechanisms, but something else, shadows writhing as if alive.
— Who are you? — he asked, his voice trembling yet tinged with anger.
The voices coalesced into one.
— We are those who have always been here. We are the mechanism, and we—their victims.
Antem got to his feet, fists clenched.
— If you want to help, tell me how to stop all this.
The whispering fell silent, and after a few seconds, a voice replied:
— You wish to stop something that does not exist.
These words confused Antem. He glanced at the motionless pendulum, at the gears that no longer moved.
Everything felt so real.
— This is an illusion, — he whispered to himself.
The shadows began to thicken, forming before him something that resembled a human figure. Tall, with no distinct features, but its presence was unsettling.
— You are close to the truth, Antem, — the figure spoke. — But even truth comes with a price.
It extended its hand, and before Antem appeared a vision. He saw himself—another version of himself, in a different world. There were no mechanisms, no pendulum, no illusion of time. He stood in a sunlit field, beside a woman he once loved. Her laughter echoed in his ears, and it seemed so real.
— This is your choice, — the figure continued. — To leave the fight and return to what could have been, or to move forward and destroy it all.
The vision vanished as suddenly as it had appeared. Antem felt his heart tighten with pain. He understood that this choice could cost him everything.
— I do not believe in your illusions, — he said firmly.
The figure froze, then dissolved back into the shadows.
— Then you must descend further. To the very core.
The darkness around him began to part, revealing a new path. Antem looked at the compass again—it glowed once more, pointing the way forward.
He took a step, knowing that there was no turning back now.