Morning light filtered through the stained‑glass windows of the Grand Hall, casting fractured rainbows across polished marble floors. The assembly had dispersed, leaving an echo of footsteps and the faint scent of parchment in the air. I followed Kaito and Elena through a side corridor, my mind still tangled in the Chancellor's words. Seventeen days until the rift closed. Seventeen days to unravel the pattern of inevitability.
Kaito led the way with easy confidence, his uniform jacket flapping behind him like a banner. "We've got our first Threshold simulation today," he said over his shoulder. "It's a standard practice run, but they ramped up the parameters. They want to see how the new recruits handle rapid temporal shifts." He glanced at me. "Ready?"
I nodded, though readiness felt like a fragile veneer over my doubts. "As ready as I'll ever be." Beneath the words lay a more urgent question: Could I trust Marcus's memories of these exercises? Or would I betray the timeline if I intervened too much?
Elena walked beside me, her gaze trained on the holographic interface hovering above her palm. "Threshold 2A," she murmured. "You'll enter the pocket dimension, stabilize the time distortion, escalate to Level 3, then seal the breach. Not lethal, but disorienting. I'll monitor your vital signs and chronon flux." She tapped the display, summoning diagrams of swirling energy and collapsing geometries.
I studied the schematics: a cylindrical chamber lined with crystalline conduits, nodes pulsing like stars caught in a spiral. Each node represented a temporal anchor it was our task to sync them in sequence. Marcus had logged dozens of simulations, each successful run credited to his uncanny intuition. I prayed his instincts would carry me through.
The corridor opened into the Temporal Grid, a vast chamber where streams of translucent light braided above us like ribbons in motion. Students clustered at workstations, calibrating consoles and exchanging tense smiles. At the center stood the Threshold Gate: a circular aperture etched with runic glyphs, its surface shimmering with iridescent energy.
An instructor, clad in a dark robe, raised his voice. "Volunteers for 2A, step forward!" His tone brooked no hesitation.
Kaito gave me an encouraging nod. "After you, Marcus." With that, he stepped up and signaled me onward. My heart thudded as I approached the Gate, each footstep echoing against metal grating. The hum intensified, resonating through my bones.
I inhaled deeply, tasting the faint tang of ozone. As I crossed the threshold, the world dissolved.
—
White noise. My ears rang as though accelerated tenfold. Shapes of light coalesced into a tunnel, stretching beyond sight and curving inward. Time itself felt viscous, as if I were wading in syrup. I sensed Kaito's presence beside me solid, reassuring and then Elena's voice crackled through the commlink.
"Marcus, report." Her tone was calm, professional.
"Entering pocket dimension." I forced my voice steady, though my pulse raced. The glyphs on the Gate's rim glowed blue, mining the residual echo of my Chrono Pulse implant. My cheek prickled with the familiar hum my own power, reaching through the Veil.
A translucent marker floated before me: Node 1. It hovered at chest level, spinning slowly. I extended a hand, fingertips tingling as the glyphs responded to my neural signature. Light flared. Node 1 stabilized, its ribbon of energy contracting into a perfect orb. I felt a ripple, an echo of Marcus's delight at a successful sync.
"Node 1 locked," I said. Encouragement crackled over the comm.
"Good," Elena replied. "Proceed to Node 2. Watch for temporal backlash."
I advanced, stepping through shifting fragments of light. Node 2 lay beyond a corridor that warped reality corridors overlapping, walls folding in on themselves. Time jittered: a blade of grass at my feet grew a full bloom and withered in seconds. I clenched my jaw against vertigo, recalling Marcus's countless hours of practice.
Reaching Node 2, I laid a palm against its glyphs. The power surged stronger than the first, a pulse of raw chronology seeking equilibrium. I channeled my Chrono Pulse, extending its reach. Pain lanced through my skull, a reminder that time manipulation exacted a steep toll. Still, the node's ribbons stilled. It clicked into place.
"Node 2 locked," I reported, voice tight. The world snapped back from the spiral as if waking from a nightmare. Kaito's image flickered at the edge of my vision, steady and unwavering.
"Proceed," Elena said. "Three more to go."
Node 3 materialized in a void ringed by floating debris ruined fragments of desks, shattered prototypes suspended in mid‑air. This simulation ramped up stakes: any misstep and the entire pocket could collapse. I summoned my courage, stepping onto a levitating slab and reaching for the node. Its glyphs buzzed with unstable energy, threatening to lash out. I braced myself, anchoring my mind in the present, and the node yielded.
"Node 3 locked." My breaths came in shallow bursts. Sweat slicked my brow.
The world convulsed once. Then I stood before Node 4, poised atop a shattered bridge of light spanning a void. Below, temporal currents churned in emerald and violet. The air was electric an omen of the nearing climax. I focused, cycling my internal reserves. Chrono Pulse contracted, then expanded, and the ribbons of Node 4 fell silent.
"One more," I whispered.
Node 5 hovered at the gate's threshold, its glyphs dull and unresponsive. The simulation's designers intended this to be the trickiest anchor: a test of instinct. No diagrams, no prompts just raw energy awaiting mastery. I inhaled, drawing on every lesson Marcus had learned: patience, precision, and unwavering intent. My hand hovered over the node, the hum in my skull blazing like a second heartbeat.
Time slowed. The node's ribbons stretched toward me like grasping tendrils. I reached out, pouring Chrono Pulse through my neural link. A shockwave of energy erupted, and I staggered backward, vision blurring. Behind my eyelids, I saw the Collapse again cities shrouded in ash, skies aflame, countless souls crying out.
I gasped and pushed the vision aside. The node's ribbons coalesced, contracting into a smooth orb. The pocket dimension shuddered, reality knitting itself back together.
"Node 5 locked. Sealing breach!" I cried, stumbling forward. A burst of white light engulfed me.
—
I snapped back into the Temporal Grid chamber, the Gate's rim dimmed to silence. Around me, instructors and students watched in respectful awe. Kaito caught me before I fell, steadying me with an arm around my waist.
Elena rushed to my side, checking my vital readings. "Temporal flux peaked at 94%," she muttered. "You pushed harder than anyone before. Diagnostics show minimal chronon degradation, but rest for five minutes."
I nodded, breath ragged, the world swaying. The Gate's hum faded entirely, replaced by the murmur of onlookers. My vision cleared, and I saw Kaito's worried face. "Are you okay?" he asked.
I managed a weary smile. "Better than ever."
The instructor approached, robes swirling. "Exceptional work, Reed. You showed remarkable control under duress. You may resume your duties in an hour." He nodded to Elena. "I'll review the data and adjust the next simulation accordingly."
As the crowd dispersed, Kaito guided me toward a seating area. "You nearly collapsed on the final node," he chided. "I thought I'd lose you."
"You'd better get used to it," I replied softly. "We don't have time to be cautious." My fingers brushed the pendant at my neck a simple hourglass crystal that Marcus wore. It glowed faintly, synchronizing with my heartbeat. A reminder: every second counted.
Elena joined us, tablet in hand. "Your chronon stability is impressive," she said, her lips curving in approval. "But if you continue at this pace, you risk permanent temporal disassociation. You must conserve energy."
I stared at her, aware of the impatience I felt. "We don't have that luxury. I need every advantage if I'm to prevent the Collapse." My eyes met hers. "Elena, you said our simulations might not capture the true scale of the rift breach. What if the real anomaly is beyond what we can model?"
Her expression flickered, caught between caution and curiosity. "Then we adapt. But we can't experiment recklessly within the Academy. If you push too far, you jeopardize not just yourself, but everyone here."
She had a point. The Academy was our bastion against the unknown. Yet I had lived through its failure once. I would not stand by and watch the same fate unfold. Not again.
Kaito squeezed my shoulder. "Come on, Marcus. Let's get some air. You need fuel and rest." He led me outside, where a terrace overlooked the campus grounds. Below, students practiced teleportation drills and chrono‑field projections. The air smelled of spring blossoms and fresh hope.
We found a bench beneath a blossoming tree. Kaito produced two steaming cups hot cocoa, if I detected correctly handing one to me. The rich sweetness grounded me, and I closed my eyes, savoring the warmth.
"Tell me," he said quietly, "what did you see in that simulation? Did anything... feel off?"
I considered lying. But Kaito deserved the truth. "It felt more real than ever. The energy behaved unpredictably like it had its own will. And at the final node... I saw the Collapse."
Kaito's brow furrowed. "You saw it?"
I nodded. "I can't explain how, but the final surge tapped into something ancient. I sensed the real rift's echo."
Silence settled between us. The petals drifted downward like snow. Kaito's eyes shone with determination. "Then we'll prepare. I'll gather a small team those we trust most. We'll train harder, simulate the un-simulatable. We'll find a way."
Hope flared within me. In this world, Kaito was more than a friend he could be an anchor, a beacon. And Elena's expertise would guide our strategy. As for Lyra… I had yet to see her, but I felt her presence in the undercurrent of this reality. I would find her soon.
The sun climbed higher, and shadows retreated. Though the true battle lay beyond any Academy test, this terrace this moment felt like the calm before a storm's eye. I closed my fingers around the cup, letting its warmth spread through me.
Seventeen days. Seventeen opportunities to bend the course of fate. Each day would demand more than training; it would demand that I reconcile Marcus's life with my own resolve. But for now, I allowed myself a brief respite a chance to breathe, to remember why I fought.
Because time was both my greatest weapon and my deadliest adversary. And in its silent currents, I was learning to swim.