Arjun's breath caught in his throat.
Standing before him was his father—or so he thought. Same gentle face. Same posture. But the eyes—they were cold, glowing with veins of red energy, the same corruption that bent timelines and shattered destinies.
"You… you're not him," Arjun muttered.
The figure smiled faintly.
"No, Arjun. I'm the version your father could've been. The one who embraced the truth of power, not its illusion."
"So you're a variant from a splintered timeline?"
"Correct. A timeline where your mother died in the Second Chrono War. And in my grief… I remade time itself."
Arjun's head spun.
"So you're the reason the timeline is collapsing?"
"No," the man said softly. "You are."
---
The Library Burns
The Library of Shadows cracked. Timeline scrolls unraveled mid-air, releasing flashes of moments not yet lived—glimpses of Arjun's future self, of dead Kaladarshi returning, of Earth being erased and redrawn again and again.
The true Sage Kayan—the older version—grabbed Arjun's arm.
"You have to choose. Every second we hesitate, the corrupted futures multiply."
Arjun steadied himself and turned to the variant.
"Why are you here?"
The variant laughed.
"To guide you. Or to destroy you. It all depends on your next step."
Suddenly, the floor beneath them opened like a scroll, revealing a Temporal Rift Gate—a door made entirely of rotating gears, feathers, and memory fragments.
---
The Choice
Arjun looked between the two versions of his father:
One, scarred, tired, but still holding onto hope—the original Sage Kayan.
The other, powerful, calm, and fully in control of corrupted time—the Variant Kayan.
"This is what Ritika warned me about," Arjun whispered. "A future where time has no anchor… where truth itself bends."
Both Kayans extended their hands.
"Come with me, son," they said in unison.
Arjun stood still, sweat dripping from his brow.
Then, without a word, he walked directly into the Temporal Rift Gate, alone.
---
Inside the Rift
Inside the gate, Arjun wasn't alone.
Dozens of future versions of himself walked around—some noble, some villainous, some monstrous. All from timelines where he had made a different decision.
They all turned to look at him.
One of them—the version with a black Kaladarshi cloak and no eyes—whispered:
"You're the 900th version to reach here."
---
As Arjun tried to speak, a voice echoed from the center of the Rift:
"But only one Arjun can survive. Only one can become the Timelord."
Suddenly, all the other Arjuns raised their hands… and launched their attacks at once.
The Time War had become personal.