Light completely enveloped them as they crossed the threshold, so intense that Richard had to close his eyes. When he finally could open them, he found himself contemplating a space that defied all architectural logic.
The Chamber of Decisions was colossal, a natural dome whose ceiling rose until it was lost in darkness. The walls were neither stone nor wood, but seemed to be formed by overlapping layers of solidified time: translucent strata where scenes from ancient epochs could be glimpsed, from the primordial formation of the earth to the rise of forgotten civilizations.
At the exact center of the chamber, on an elevated circular platform, floated the pillar of green light they had seen from the lake. Within it, the triangular fragment pulsed with contained energy, emitting flashes that illuminated the entire room in rhythmic patterns.
"The Core of the Eternal," whispered Elyndra, her voice laden with reverence. "The fragment that contains the wisdom of earth and time."
Richard took a step forward, hypnotized by the fragment. But he immediately noticed something disconcerting: although they seemed to be only twenty meters from the central platform, each step they took did not bring them any closer at all.
"It's a spatial distortion," explained Elyndra, noticing his confusion. "Physical distance is irrelevant here. To reach the fragment, we must overcome the chamber's tests."
As if responding to her words, the floor between them and the central platform began to transform. The smooth surface fractured into hexagonal panels that rose to different heights, creating an irregular landscape. Each hexagon emitted a different color, and symbols that constantly changed appeared on its surface.
"The Board of Ages," murmured Elyndra. "A physical representation of Earth's timelines. Each hexagon represents a geological or historical era."
Richard watched, fascinated, as the symbols on the hexagons fluctuated: some showed ancient marine creatures, others prehistoric forests, others megalithic structures or cities in different states of evolution.
"What must we do?"
"Find the right path," replied Elyndra. "But it won't be as simple as crossing from one point to another. Each step we take will alter the board, and with it, our relationship with time."
She had barely finished speaking when another tremor, more violent than the previous ones, shook the chamber. Fragments of the stratified walls broke loose, disintegrating into temporal dust before touching the ground.
"The temple is under attack," reiterated Elyndra with concern. "We must hurry."
They tried to advance toward the first hexagon, but an invisible force field prevented them.
"The test hasn't formally begun," observed Elyndra. "The temple is expecting something from us."
Richard reflected for a moment. In the previous temples, each test had been preceded by some kind of ritual or declaration of intentions.
"My name is Richard Wonder," he proclaimed aloud, addressing the entire chamber. "I seek the earth-time fragment to understand the mysteries of the Veil and restore the balance between the worlds."
His voice resonated with unusual force, as if the acoustics of the chamber were specifically designed to amplify the words of seekers. For several seconds, nothing happened. Then, slowly, the force field dissipated, and a deep, ancient voice responded from everywhere and nowhere at once:
*"Richard Wonder, bearer of fragments. Your intentions have been heard. The test of the Core of the Eternal is not one of speed or strength, but of wisdom and choice. Walk the path of ages and learn what earth and time have to teach."*
With the field dissipated, Richard and Elyndra could finally approach the first hexagon. It was a deep blue and showed primitive marine creatures swimming in an ancient ocean.
"The Cambrian," Richard identified, remembering his studies. "The beginning of complex life on Earth."
When he stepped on the hexagon, an extraordinary sensation invaded him. It was as if his consciousness expanded backward in time, allowing him to experience fragments of that primordial period: the warmth of ancient oceans, the slow awakening of consciousness in the first complex creatures, patient evolution working through countless generations.
"It's... incredible," he murmured, overwhelmed by the experience.
"Each hexagon contains the temporal essence of the era it represents," explained Elyndra. "By stepping on it, you enter into resonance with that essence."
The board extended before them in an apparently random pattern. Some hexagons shone more intensely than others, forming tempting paths toward the center.
"How do we know which path to take?" asked Richard.
Elyndra examined the temporal crystal they had obtained earlier. It now pulsed in a specific sequence, as if trying to communicate something.
"The crystal will guide us partially, but the final choice must be yours," she responded. "This fragment is related to earth and time. Its test will evaluate your understanding of both concepts and their interrelationship."
Richard took out the temporal compass. The needle now moved in a complex pattern, briefly pointing to different hexagons before moving to the next.
"It's suggesting a sequence," he observed.
They carefully studied the board. Based on the indications of the compass and the crystal, Richard identified what seemed to be a logical path: a chronological progression through the main geological eras of Earth.
He moved to the next hexagon, a vibrant green that showed giant ferns and strange reptilian creatures.
"The Carboniferous," he identified as he stepped on it.
Again, a wave of sensory experiences invaded him: the dense, humid air of prehistoric swamps, the buzz of giant insects, the slow accumulation of plant matter that would eventually transform into coal.
As they advanced from hexagon to hexagon, Richard experienced fragments of Earth's deep history: the violent formation of mountains, glaciations that covered entire continents, asteroid impacts that changed the course of evolution.
Elyndra followed him one step behind, carefully observing his reaction to each era. The expression on her face was indecipherable, but her eyes missed no detail.
"You're learning Earth's language," she commented quietly. "You're listening to its history directly, without intermediaries."
They had advanced approximately one-third of the way when the board suddenly changed. The hexagons reorganized, some sinking while others rose, creating a completely different landscape.
"The path has changed!" exclaimed Richard, disconcerted.
"The board evolves with us," explained Elyndra. "Each decision we make alters future possibilities."
A new tremor, stronger than the previous ones, shook the chamber. This time, visible cracks appeared in the stratified walls, and some hexagons at the edges of the board disintegrated completely.
"The attack is intensifying," said Elyndra with urgency. "The temple won't resist indefinitely."
In the distance, they could hear a disturbing sound: rhythmic blows, as if enormous hammers were striking the outer walls of the temple. They were trying to force their way in.
"Who are they?" asked Richard, though he feared he knew the answer.
"The Organization, without doubt," replied Elyndra, her face tense. "They've tracked our temporal energy and want the fragment for themselves."
Richard quickly evaluated the situation. The path to the fragment now seemed even more complex than before, and the chamber's stability was compromised. They needed a new strategy.
"The compass no longer shows a clear path," he observed, seeing how the needle spun erratically. "And the hexagons no longer follow a recognizable chronological order."
Elyndra nodded gravely.
"The test has evolved. It's no longer just about following Earth's chronology, but understanding the deeper patterns that connect different eras."
Richard studied the new arrangement of hexagons, looking for some meaningful pattern. Then he noticed something: certain hexagons, though representing eras very distant from each other, showed conceptual similarities. A Carboniferous hexagon showed primitive forests, while a Holocene one showed modern forests. Both shared a particular green glow.
"They're cycles," he murmured, understanding coming like a revelation. "It's not a straight line from past to present, but patterns that repeat through time, albeit in different forms."
Elyndra looked at him with renewed interest.
"Time isn't linear for Earth," she nodded. "It's cyclical, fractal, recursive."
With this new understanding, Richard began to identify pairs and trios of hexagons that shared fundamental patterns despite representing very distant epochs. Extinction and rebirth. Construction and erosion. Expansion and contraction.
He moved toward a hexagon that showed the impact of a devastating asteroid. As he stepped on it, he experienced the catastrophe that had annihilated the dinosaurs: the apocalyptic explosion, the dust cloud blocking the sun, the massive extinction of species.
But he also perceived something else: the emergence of new evolutionary opportunities in the devastated world. Small mammalian creatures emerging from their burrows. The slow but inexorable reconquest of ecosystems. Tragedy transforming into the beginning of a new era.
He jumped to a distant hexagon that showed a forest ravaged by fire. The experience was similar in essence, although different in scale: destruction followed by renewal. Ashes fertilizing the soil. Seeds released by heat beginning to germinate. The eternal cycle of death and rebirth.
"You're understanding," approved Elyndra. "The true knowledge of earth and time is in recognizing patterns that repeat at different scales."
With each hexagon he stepped on, Richard deepened his understanding of these fundamental cycles. He began to move with greater confidence across the board, identifying connections he would have previously overlooked.
However, the attacks on the temple continued to intensify. The cracks in the walls expanded, and some fragments of solidified time broke loose, creating localized temporal distortions where they landed.
"We're running out of time," warned Elyndra. "The temple cannot maintain its structural integrity under this assault."
Richard accelerated his advance, jumping decisively from one hexagon to another, navigating through the interwoven cycles of Earth's history. Now he could see the complete pattern, the dance of cycles within cycles, the great symphony of planetary time.
They were halfway to the central platform when the board changed again, this time more dramatically. More than half of the hexagons vanished completely, leaving large gaps in the path. Those that remained rose even higher, creating an archipelago of floating islands separated by seemingly bottomless abysses.
"The board is destabilizing!" exclaimed Richard. "There's no longer a complete path!"
Elyndra assessed the situation with critical eyes.
"The temple is implementing defensive measures. It's sacrificing parts of itself to protect the fragment."
Richard observed the remaining hexagons. They were too separated to jump between them by normal means. Even the closest was several meters away.
"How do we continue?"
Before Elyndra could respond, a deafening crash shook the entire chamber. A massive crack appeared in one of the walls, extending from the floor to the invisible ceiling. Through it, an intense and unnatural light filtered, accompanied by distant voices and the sound of heavy machinery.
"They've breached the outer barrier," said Elyndra, her voice tense. "They'll be here soon."
Richard looked desperately around, seeking some solution. The fragment continued floating in its pillar of light, seemingly unreachable. The surviving hexagons floated like islands in a sea of void. There was no visible path forward.
"There must be a way," he murmured, refusing to surrender. "The temple wouldn't have brought us this far if it were impossible to complete the test."
He focused on the lessons he had learned throughout the board. The cyclical nature of time. The interrelationship between destruction and creation. Adaptation in the face of catastrophic change.
Then he understood: the apparent void between the hexagons was not an obstacle, but part of the test itself.
"The void is also part of the cycle," he said with sudden clarity. "Between each era, between each state of matter, there is a moment of transition, of pure possibility."
Elyndra looked at him intensely, a flash of recognition in her silver eyes.
"The primordial void from which everything emerges and to which everything returns," she nodded. "But crossing it requires an act of faith grounded in deep understanding."
Richard contemplated the abyss between his current hexagon and the next. It wasn't black as he had initially thought, but contained subtle luminous veins, like currents in an invisible river.
"It's not absolute emptiness," he murmured. "They're the currents of time itself, visible only when the solid structure dissipates."
With new determination, he approached the edge of his hexagon. The luminous currents seemed to respond to his presence, swirling as if inviting him to take the step.
He breathed deeply, remembering everything he had learned about earth and time on his journey. He closed his eyes for a moment, visualizing the eternal patterns of transformation and continuity he had experienced through the board.
And he took the step.
For a terrifying instant, he felt himself falling. Then, the temporal currents enveloped him, sustaining him as if he were floating in an invisible river. He wasn't falling, but being transported by the flow of time itself.
Seconds later, his feet touched the next hexagon. He had crossed the apparent void using the temporal currents as a bridge.
"It worked!" he exclaimed, feeling both exalted and amazed.
Elyndra smiled briefly, though concern never left her eyes.
"You've understood the deepest aspect of the test," she said. "Time and earth are not separate entities, but different manifestations of the same fundamental reality."
Another crash shook the chamber. The crack in the wall widened, and now they could distinguish silhouettes moving in the glow emanating from it. Human voices shouted orders, and the hum of advanced machinery filled the air.
"Quick," urged Elyndra. "Continue while I try to slow them down."
Richard wanted to protest, didn't want to leave her to face the invaders alone, but he understood the logic. He had to complete the test and secure the fragment before the Organization's agents reached him.
As Elyndra headed toward the crack, channeling energy in her hands to create some kind of barrier, Richard continued his advance across the floating hexagons. Now that he had discovered how to use the temporal currents as bridges, he could move more quickly.
Each hexagon he stepped on continued providing him with visions and experiences, but now he processed them more rapidly, integrating his knowledge into a deeper and more holistic understanding.
He was just three hexagons away from the central platform when a new challenge arose. The pillar of light containing the fragment began to flicker erratically, as if losing stability. At the same time, the hexagon directly in front of him started to disintegrate.
"No!" he exclaimed, knowing that without that crucial step, he couldn't reach the fragment.
He concentrated, trying to discern some solution. The temporal currents swirled chaotically around the disintegrating hexagon, as if absorbing its essence.
An idea emerged in his mind, bold and potentially dangerous: if the hexagons were physical manifestations of temporal eras, and if these were being reabsorbed by the currents of time, perhaps he could use his newly acquired understanding to reconstruct it.
He extended his hands toward the dying hexagon and concentrated intensely, visualizing the era it represented: the Anthropocene, the current epoch where humanity had fundamentally altered the planet. He tried to channel the temporal currents, direct them to reform the vanishing structure.
To his amazement, the currents responded. Slowly, particles of solidified time began to regroup, partially reconstructing the hexagon. It wasn't a perfect restoration—the structure remained translucent and fragile—but it might be enough for a quick step.
However, before he could advance, an authoritative voice resonated from the expanding crack:
"Halt immediately! By authority of the Temporal Research Agency, we order you to cease all interaction with the target artifact!"
Richard turned to see a group of figures emerging through the breach. They wore black uniforms with silver emblems and carried devices he didn't recognize, but which were clearly advanced weapons or tools. Elyndra was maintaining a barrier of bluish energy between them and the board, but it was evident it wouldn't resist for long.
Among the agents, Richard recognized a figure that left him cold: Professor Lancaster, his former university mentor, who had directed the expedition to the desert where it all began. He now wore a uniform similar to the other agents, though with additional insignias suggesting a higher rank.
"Richard Wonder," called Lancaster, his voice amplified by some device. "This has gone too far. You don't understand the forces you're playing with. Hand over the fragments you've collected and allow us to secure this one."
The betrayal hit Richard like a physical punch. Lancaster, who had inspired him, who had nurtured his passion for archaeology and ancient history, was part of the Organization.
"Professor..." he began, confusion and pain evident in his voice.
"I'm sorry, Richard," replied Lancaster, and for a moment he seemed genuinely remorseful. "You were always my brightest student. That's why I want you to survive this. The fragments are not what you think. They're dangerous beyond your comprehension."
Elyndra cried out in pain as one of the agents fired some type of energy ray that impacted her barrier. She fell to one knee, but kept the protection active.
"Richard!" she called with a strained voice. "You must complete the test! Now!"
Lancaster took a step forward, extending a hand in a conciliatory gesture.
"Do you really trust her, Richard? Has she told you who she really is? What her people planned to do with the fragments before the Veil was formed?"
The professor's words planted a seed of doubt in Richard's mind. It was true that Elyndra had been evasive about her past, about the conflict that had led to the formation of the Veil.
"Don't listen to him," said Elyndra, her voice weak but determined. "He's manipulating half-truths to confuse you."
Richard found himself paralyzed by indecision. Behind him, the reconstructed hexagon began to vanish again. The pillar of light with the fragment continued flickering unstably. Before him, his former mentor and a team of armed agents advanced while Elyndra struggled to keep them at bay.
"You only have a moment to decide, Richard," continued Lancaster. "Come with us voluntarily, and I promise we'll answer all your questions. Resisting will only cause more damage."
To emphasize his point, another agent fired at Elyndra's barrier. This time, the protective energy visibly fluctuated, almost collapsing completely.
Richard looked at Elyndra, seeking some guidance in her silver eyes. She looked at him directly, and in that gaze, Richard saw something he had never perceived before: fear. Not for herself, but for what might happen if they failed.
In that critical moment, as the temple crumbled around him and opposing forces demanded his loyalty, Richard Wonder faced the most difficult decision of his journey so far. A decision that would define not only his fate, but possibly the fate of the two worlds connected by the Veil.
And time, as always in this extraordinary place, continued flowing inexorably, indifferent to the human dramas unfolding in its currents.