I opened my eyes to a sky I'd never seen before burnished silver at the horizon, fading into the pale blue of early morning. A breeze brushed against my cheek, carrying the scent of dew‑moistened grass and distant woodsmoke. My heart thudded once, twice, as if waking from a dream too vivid to forget.
I tried to recall where I was. A meadow? A hilltop? The world felt strangely hollow, as though someone had hollowed out my memories and filled the space with a gentle hum. I pressed a hand to my temple, and the hum spiked sharp, electric. A surge of pain flared, and I gasped.
Time cracked. For a flicker of a heartbeat, I saw another world: steel towers sheared in half, the sky torn open, hulking forms of creatures beyond description clawing through the rift. Innocent faces frozen in terror. And then a voice, distant but urgent: "Seventeen days until the Collapse."
The vision vanished as suddenly as it had come. My breath came ragged, and I sank onto my elbows, blinking against the strange sunlight. Seventeen days. The word "Collapse" reverberated in my mind. I remembered that word how could I not? It was the final event in my last life. The apocalypse that swallowed every city, every trace of human civilization.
This was impossible. I was dead. I died watching that abyss consume the world.
I tasted the crisp air and felt the soft earth beneath my fingers. My pulse hammered in my throat. I lifted my head and blinked at the rolling hills, dotted with oaks and pines. The scene was peaceful too peaceful. A hawk wheeled overhead, its cry distant. A brook gurgled somewhere to my left, and I could hear a faint consonance of human activity: the clink of metal, hushed voices carried on the wind.
I forced myself to stand, legs trembling. My mind raced why was I here? And how? I turned slowly in a circle, taking in the panorama: a cluster of buildings nestled in a shallow valley, smoke curling from chimneys, lanterns still unlit. The architecture was unfamiliar, yet undeniably modern: steel beams with glass panels, a spire that caught the sun's first rays like a beacon.
A memory slithered through my thoughts: I am not who I seem. I am not seventeen. I am not this world's Arkhan. I closed my eyes again, recalling the data that had once been my mind: Arkhan, age thirty‑four, temporal researcher, survivor of the Rift Cataclysm. I recalled medical files, brain scans, equations scrawled on a cracked tablet.
My hand brushed the back of my skull there, beneath my scalp, I could feel the faint hum of something alien. Chrono Pulse. My time‑manipulation device self‑bioengineered into my nervous system. In my previous life, I had mastered its use to heal wounds and reverse brief moments of damage. But each use cost me bodily degradation, temporal dissonance. Yet I'd risked it all to save people.
I was not in my own body; I sensed that immediately. Bones felt smaller, muscles tighter, a youthful tautness I hadn't known in years. Memory confirmation: I inhabited the body of Marcus Reed a promising student at the Temporal Dynamics Academy. His memories were mostly intact, layered with my own. I could see his last thoughts: curiosity, confusion, then nothingness.
I sighed, letting the breeze calm my racing mind. The brook's babble grew louder as I walked downhill. I passed through tall grass that brushed my thighs, dew soaking my pant cuffs. Somewhere ahead, a wooden footbridge spanned the stream. I paused at its edge, fingers tracing the handrail's grain.
Across the bridge, two figures approached. One tall, lithe, with loose brown hair and hazel eyes caught sight of me first. A look of relief washed over his face. "Marcus! There you are. We've been looking everywhere."
He was wearing the academy's uniform: a fitted jacket with silver trim and an emblem shaped like an hourglass. The other figure a young woman with alabaster skin and midnight‑blue hair watched me with unsettling intensity. Her lips curved into a polite, enigmatic smile.
Relief, or something more? I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came. My new lungs filled and emptied, but my voice trembled.
The boy's hazel eyes widened. "Are you all right? You went pale as if you" He glanced at the girl, concern heavy in his tone. "Elena, what's wrong?"
The girl Elena, I recalled stepped forward. Her voice was calm, even. "He's fine, Kaito. Early morning chills. This is normal at the Academy's perimeter." She studied me as if measuring my pulse through his skin.
I swallowed. "Kaito," I said, voice hoarse. "Why... where am I?" My mind fought to piece together Marcus Reed's life: a scholarship student, brilliant in theory but untested in practice, engaged to someone named Lyra, if Marcus's last log was accurate.
Kaito took a cautious step closer. "You fainted at the lab's threshold. I dragged you here so you could breathe fresh air. The Threshold Tests it takes some getting used to."
Threshold Tests. The academy investigated interdimensional faults, training candidates to stabilize rifts. Marcus must have been nervous. So was I, though mine was a fear deeper than any lab procedure.
Elena glanced at Kaito, eyebrow raised. "You should help him back. He'll need his strength. Today's schedule starts in twenty minutes."
Kaito nodded. "Of course." He offered me his hand. I grasped it, noticing how warm and strong his grip was. The shock of connection an ally, a friend, or perhaps something more ran through me.
As Kaito guided me back toward the wooden bridge and the buildings beyond, I allowed my vision to clear. The academy's spire soared overhead now, windows reflecting the rising sun. It was stunning, terrifying and crucially, it existed in this timeline.
My chest tightened. Seventeen days until the Collapse. I would need to reclaim my full memory, understand Marcus's relationships, his role here. But first, I had to survive these days without revealing too much. Too soon, and I risked unraveling the timeline.
We emerged onto a cobblestone courtyard. Students in similar uniforms bustled around fountains and gardens. Some glanced curiously at me; others went about their business. A gentle chime echoed across the plaza signaling the start of morning assembly.
Elena raised her voice, clear and authoritative. "Gather in the Grand Hall, everyone. The Chancellor has an important announcement."
I followed Kaito across the courtyard. He glanced at me. "I don't know why you fainted, Marcus. But you look different this morning healthier, even. Maybe the body swap is treating you well?"
A flicker of unease passed through me. Body swap? Marcus had, indeed, volunteered for some experimental procedure involving "consciousness transference." Perhaps that had created this temporal echo. But the question on every oracle's mind: was it a glitch or something far greater?
Inside the Grand Hall, marble columns soared to a vaulted ceiling. Tapestries depicted scenes of timekeepers battling cosmic storms. Students filled the rows, murmuring with anticipation. At the front, a dais held an elderly woman in a robe patterned with constellations.
The Chancellor.
Her eyes brilliant silver swept over us. "Good morning, scholars. Today marks the beginning of a new era in Temporal Stabilization. Our Threshold Tests have succeeded more than we dared hope. Yet we face challenges beyond our instruments: the dimensional bleed grows stronger. I plead for your utmost dedication."
A ripple of applause greeted her words. Kaito's hand tightened on my arm. "This is it, Marcus. We're on the frontline of saving the world."
I forced a nod. The world. The real world I'd lost once. The world I would lose again unless I prevented it. Underneath the applause, my own silent vow took shape: I will find the cause of the Collapse. I will stop it.
The Chancellor continued, unaware of my inner promise. "In seventeen days, the Chrono‑Spire will activate its full capacity. We expect to close the primary rift. But failure is not an option."
Seventeen days. My chest tightened. I let the hall's ambient energy wash over me hope, tension, resolve. I would need allies: Lyra's compassion, Kaito's leadership, Elena's intellect. And I would need time my Chrono Pulse.
I closed my eyes briefly, feeling the faint hum at my core. Tick‑tick time itself calling out. I opened them and met Kaito's gaze. He nodded, as if sensing my resolve.
The Chancellor's voice rose to a crescendo: "Together, we will reclaim our future!"
Applause thundered. I joined in, masking the truth that rang in my mind: I've been here before. I've seen how this ends. But this time… I will not fail.
Outside, the sun climbed higher, illuminating the spire and promising a new day. A day I intended to bend to my will one small pulse at a time.