The light that exploded in the Heart of the Rift transported Emiren and Aliana to another part of the Garden. The ground beneath their feet was cold and hard, and a dense mist enveloped everything around them, making it difficult to see more than a few steps ahead. The air was saturated with the smell of burnt wood and metal, and in the distance, a faint bell toll echoed ominously.
“Where are we?” Aliana whispered, glancing around.
Emiren crouched, touching the ground with his fingers. It was covered in ash, as if this place had endured a devastating catastrophe.
“I don’t know, but this place… is dead.”
As the mist thinned slightly, the ruins of a city emerged before them. Once majestic buildings now stood half-destroyed, their walls cracked and their windows reduced to gaping black voids. Thick vines and moss had overgrown the remnants of columns and arches, and in the center of the square stood a statue so damaged that its features were nearly unrecognizable.
“This was the City of the Creators,” Aliana murmured, her voice trembling as she examined the symbols on a nearby column. “Look at these markings… They belong to those who once safeguarded the balance of time.”
“But what happened here?” Emiren asked, surveying the ruins. His gaze stopped on a massive fissure cutting through the square, resembling an extension of the Rift, as though this place had been its first victim.
Shadows of the Past
Suddenly, the air around them shimmered, and a figure emerged from behind a crumbled arch. It was a tall, gaunt being with a spectral appearance, its skin shimmering with a silvery glow. Its face was hidden beneath a hood, but its bright eyes shone as if they could see through time itself.
“Who are you?” a low voice asked, reverberating as though from another world.
“We’re searching for answers,” Emiren said, raising his sword, though he felt no immediate threat. “What is this place?”
The figure tilted its head, as if pondering.
“This is the City of the Creators. Once it was a center of power where new branches of time were crafted. But now, it is only an echo of the past, destroyed by the choices of those who failed to maintain harmony.”
“Were you one of them?” Aliana asked, stepping closer.
“Yes,” the being replied. “I was one of the first Creators. But I witnessed how our pride led to catastrophe. We wanted to shape time at our own will, creating worlds to suit our desires. We crossed the line.”
The spectral figure raised its hand, and a vision appeared before them: a grand hall where dozens of Creators worked on intricate mechanisms resembling elaborate clocks. Each mechanism crafted a new branch of time, but one of them began to glow red.
“That was our mistake,” the Creator said. “We created a branch of time that began to destroy others. The balance was broken, and the Rift emerged as a consequence.”
Artifacts of the Creators
“What do we need to do to fix this?” Emiren asked.
The Creator looked at them and extended a hand toward the damaged statue in the square.
“There are still artifacts in this city that can help. But they are guarded by Shadows. They will not let you take them easily.”
“Shadows?” Aliana asked.
As soon as the word was spoken, ghostly silhouettes began to emerge from the fissure in the ground. They moved silently, their faces featureless, and their forms constantly shifted as if made of liquid.
“They are remnants of shattered branches of time,” the Creator explained. “They have no will, but they are dangerous.”
Emiren raised his sword, ready for a fight.
“If we must face them, so be it.”
Battle for the Past
The Shadows attacked without warning, like a wave. They wielded no weapons, but their touch was deadly—each contact triggered flashes of visions from the past, making it hard for the heroes to concentrate.
“Don’t let them touch you!” Aliana shouted, dodging one of the phantoms.
Emiren struck at the nearest Shadow, and his sword, forged from starlight, shattered the creature into fragments. But where one Shadow fell, two more appeared in its place.
“There are too many of them!” Aliana cried.
The Creator, who had been observing the battle, raised a hand, and a key—a radiant golden artifact—materialized in the air.
“Take this! It will open the door to the Temple of Memories, where you’ll find what you seek.”
Aliana grabbed the key, and the Shadows shifted their focus to her. Emiren acted as her shield, deflecting their attacks as she ran toward the massive stone structure that had appeared in the center of the ruins.
“Hurry!” Emiren shouted, blocking another strike.
As the doors opened, Aliana pulled Emiren inside, and they slammed shut with a deafening thud, sealing the Shadows outside. Darkness engulfed the space around them.
The Secret of the Temple of Memories
They found themselves in a vast hall, its walls adorned with bas-reliefs depicting the history of the Garden. In the center of the room was a round table on which lay fragments of a clock. The pieces radiated an invisible but palpable energy.
“This is what we’re looking for,” Aliana said, touching the fragments.
“But what now?” Emiren asked, still catching his breath after the battle.
The Creator’s voice echoed in their minds:
“You must assemble this clock and decide which branch of time to preserve and which to destroy. But be warned: your choice will change everything.”
The two exchanged glances. Before them lay a new puzzle, the answer to which could either save time or plunge it into eternal chaos.