Date: 2742-08-22
Time: 04:16 AM (but also… not.)
Location: Warehouse, Kyoto Docklands → ∆ Unstable Temporal Field
Ren took a step toward the glowing Aetherium shard.
And the universe hiccupped.
The sound was indescribable — like a lightbulb shattering underwater, or a clock trying to swallow its own tick.
Then—
Everything stopped.
The Thornkind froze mid-turn. The feathers on the Rookborn stopped fluttering. Even Lirael, who'd just reached for her blade, hung in the air like someone had pressed pause on her soul.
...
"Uh… Optics?" Ren looked around. "You dead?"
[no response.]
"…Shit."
He blinked.
Then his chest burned. A faint hum pulsed outward. His shirt began to glow at the sternum — soft blue at first, then bright gold, then deep crimson.
A new voice rang out.
Not a voice, exactly. More like a mechanical whisper etched in binary.
[INITIALIZING: AETHERIUM CORE PROTOCOL | FRAGMENT SYNC]
Status: ∆_HOST[AWAKE]
Signal: STABLE-ISH/
Mode: THREAD_VIEW: ENABLED
Timer: [0:0000]
"What the actual f—" Ren froze as glowing threads appeared all around him. They stretched from person to person, wall to ceiling, some twisting through dimensions he couldn't comprehend.
They pulsed. Connected. Intertwined. Like the fabric of fate was on LSD.
And right in front of him was that timer.
0:0000
It didn't move.
It didn't count.
It just was. Waiting.
"Adjust… What the hell does that mean?" Ren whispered.
The voice returned — still digital, still cold.
[VERB: SELECT]
[SUGGEST: OBSERVE]
[DANGER: YES]
[YOU: WATCHED]
"Watched?! BY WHO?!" Ren turned, paranoia in overdrive.
Then he saw it — a flicker in the eyes of the Thornkind holding the shard. Their pupils were locked on Ren's position.
Unmoving.
Unbreathing.
Frozen.
But… aware?
Then more.
One Rookborn's feathers twitched in stopped air. A Vixari's runes glowed slightly brighter. Several creatures had scars — fresh burns, bullet holes, claw marks. Their robes hung loose, but beneath them?
Weapons.
Blood.
Intent.
"Murdery. That's murdery," Ren muttered.
[RECOMMEND: NOT DYING]
[STRATEGY: EVASION]
[ADJUST: TIMER > EXIT]
Ren didn't wait.
He slipped between frozen bodies, heart hammering as the Core in his chest began to dim again. The threads flickered like dying fireflies. The warehouse faded into gray.
He slipped into the shadow of an old supply room and waited.
The moment he crossed the threshold—
Time snapped back.
Like a whip.
Like gravity remembered it existed.
He heard voices outside—
"Where'd he go?!"
"He vanished—he just fucking vanished!"
"Find him. Before they do."
Ren didn't breathe. Didn't move. The glow on his chest faded completely.
A few long minutes passed.
Then...
[VORTEX OPTICS ONLINE – Welcome Back, Dumbass.]
Ren nearly screamed. "Jesus fucking CHRIST—where were you?!"
Excuse me?! I was LOCKED IN A TIME-FREEZE, you glitchy meatbag! That wasn't normal stasis, that was core-triggered reality lag.
"I thought you DIED!"
I wanted to. Especially if I had to hear you grunt 'oh fuck' into the void one more time.
Ren gritted his teeth. "Okay. Serious question: what the hell just happened?"
You activated the Aetherium Core's internal threading protocol. You saw time. You saw intent. You basically saw the universe's private group chat.
"And the timer?!"
That was an anchor. A sync point. You're not counting down — you're calibrating. That thing lets you align your moment in time. Shift events. Pin fixed points. That's not a clock, Ren… it's a fucking scalpel.
Ren blinked.
"...So I'm time-jumping?"
You're time-finessing. There's a difference. One sounds cooler. The other causes aneurysms.
Ren exhaled and peeked out the supply room door.
The crowd was scattering. Some left in groups. Others vanished outright.
Lirael was gone.
He leaned against the wall, brain melting.
"...They were gonna kill me, weren't they?"
Yep. 86% chance of ultra-violence. One of them had poison in their mouth. Another was hiding a dimensional stiletto. You were the glowing alien heart-throb of the hour.
"Why didn't you tell me?!"
BECAUSE I WAS FROZEN LIKE A SPACEPOP, DUMBASS.
Ren groaned.
"Okay. Okay. So… what now?"
Now? We lay low. We eat something. Maybe not follow heavily armed refugee posses into creepy warehouses next time.
"And the Core fragment? That shard?"
Still here. Still active. But you spooked them. You might get another shot. Just not tonight. They know you're different now.
Ren sat down.
Stared at the faintly glowing threads still lingering in his vision.
"Vortex?"
Yeah?
"...Was this supposed to happen?"
Ren. Buddy. Nothing about you is supposed to happen. You're a cosmic accident with sarcasm issues and a glowing death-core in your chest. And now... you're on their radar.