As Takeshi and Nyx walked through the dimly lit halls, a peculiar door caught Takeshi's attention. Unlike the others, this door was a deep purple, with unfamiliar writings etched across its surface that faintly glowed under the dungeon's light.
"Nyx," Takeshi said, halting in his tracks, "go on ahead. I want to check out this room."
Nyx glanced at the door, her brow furrowing with concern. "Alright, but don't take too long," she replied, turning to continue down the corridor.
Once she was out of sight, Takeshi stepped closer to the door. The air around it felt heavier, as though something powerful lay within. His hand hovered over the knob for a moment before gripping it and turning. The door creaked open, revealing an unexpected sight.
Inside was a circular room, its towering shelves packed with books of all shapes and sizes, their spines worn from time. At the center, a chest sat atop a stone pedestal, its surface shimmering under an active protection spell.
Curiosity pulled Takeshi deeper into the room. His footsteps echoed softly as he approached the shelves, fingers grazing the dusty tomes. He pulled out a few books and flipped through the pages, but the writings were in languages he couldn't understand. Despite his efforts, most of the books revealed nothing useful.
Then, near the back of the room, his eyes settled on a weathered book that stood out among the rest. Its cover was faded, but the title — Time Walkers — was still visible, etched in gold. An emerald gem embedded at the center glimmered faintly, as though alive.
Intrigued, Takeshi carefully opened the book. The brittle pages rustled as he began to read, and the more he absorbed, the faster his pulse raced:
The God of Time. A being capable of manipulating and controlling time at will — one of the eight gods who created this world. Each god chooses one of their creations to inherit part of their power, maintaining balance throughout the land. These chosen ones are known as prophets. Prophets wield the power of their god, for either good or evil.
Those who wield the power of time are called Time Walkers. These beings can manipulate a portion of time. However, the wielder must possess unwavering concentration and a profound understanding of its workings — for the risks are great.
The dungeon you stand within was created by the God of Time to test whether you are worthy of bearing this power. According to my research, only three of five users — myself included — have successfully controlled it.
Of those three, only one achieved the title of "The Divine One." But that person turned against the world, going berserk and destroying many of the gods' creations before disappearing without a trace.
If you've been chosen by the God of Time, be wary. Excessive use of this power will lead to immediate death.
— Zelios
Takeshi flipped through more of the brittle pages, scanning the faded text until another entry caught his eye:
It seems an intruder has entered the dungeon, leaving destruction in his wake. I do not know how or why he has come, but I am certain his reasons are not trivial.
Curiosity mounting, he turned the page and found another note:
The intruder is the so-called "Divine One" — he has arrived. I must stop him at all costs. If I cannot prevent his rampage, I will seal him within my hourglass to halt his havoc upon this land.
To whoever is reading this, know this: he cannot be contained forever, even within the seal. If you are able, attain this power and stop the chaos that threatens this world.
The ominous message sent chills down Takeshi's spine. Slowly, he closed the book, his gaze drifting across the room. Could The Divine One still be here, sealed somewhere within the dungeon? The thought gnawed at him.
Driven by a mix of fear and determination, he began searching the room for any signs of the entity. His movements were slow and deliberate, his breathing steady but tinged with unease. Every corner seemed untouched, offering no hint of a hidden menace.
Suddenly, a light tug on his shirt snapped him from his thoughts.
His body stiffened, heart skipping a beat. A shiver crawled down his spine as he spun around in a panic.
Standing behind him was Nyx, her wide, curious eyes staring up at him.
"What's wrong?" she asked, her voice soft but puzzled.
Takeshi exhaled sharply, trying to calm his racing heart. "Nyx, don't sneak up on me like that!" he said, his tone a mix of exasperation and lingering fear.
Nyx tilted her head. "I wasn't sneaking. I just saw you pacing and thought you were looking for something. You looked... scared."
"It's nothing," Takeshi replied quickly, forcing a small smile. "Just something I thought I'd lost while roaming around." He rubbed the back of his neck and shifted the conversation. "Anyway, what have you been up to?"
Nyx's expression brightened. She placed her hands on her hips, a playful smirk curling her lips.
"I'm glad you asked," she said with a hint of pride. "I've been preparing everything we need for our journey out of this dungeon. Wanna take a look?"
Takeshi nodded, welcoming the change in mood. "Sure, lead the way."
Nyx guided him toward a nearby room near their resting area. As the door creaked open, Takeshi's eyes widened. The room was neatly organized — weapons polished and lined up on racks, potions and supplies arranged carefully on a table.
His gaze was drawn to a particular set: a sheathed sword and a gun resting in a holster. They looked eerily familiar.
"These are the weapons we found earlier, right?" he asked, already suspecting the answer.
Nyx nodded, her face glowing with pride. "Yep! I thought we'd need them polished and ready to go. No use carrying them around if we can't use them properly."
Takeshi couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm. "Thanks for this, Nyx. You've really outdone yourself."
Nyx rested her hands on her hips again, her smirk returning. "Well, someone's gotta make sure we're prepared."
Takeshi chuckled softly, the tension from earlier finally easing away. "Alright. We'll leave at daybreak. Let's get some rest until then."
"Got it," Nyx replied with a firm nod, her eyes reflecting a mix of determination and quiet confidence.