Seraphin's body jolted as though she had been ripped out of reality. For a brief moment, she felt her molecules scatter, stretched across invisible wires of time, before snapping back into place. She stumbled forward, gasping.
When her eyes adjusted, she found herself inside an enormous underground hangar, larger than any she had ever seen. The ceiling curved high above, covered in pulsating neon veins that spread like glowing roots across the rock. The hum of machines echoed in every direction, mixed with the chatter of hurried voices and the clang of metalwork.
Before her, rows of people—men, women, even children—moved with purpose. Many still bore scars and chains from slavery, but their eyes glimmered with rebellion. Some carried rifles embedded with swirling energy cores, others wielded curved blades that shimmered as though bending light itself. Every weapon was patched together from scavenged Null Walker tech fused with futuristic engineering Seraphin had never dreamed possible.
She was still catching her breath when a man stepped out of the shadows. His presence carried weight, not from size, but from the sharp intensity in his gaze. A black trench coat hung over his shoulders, and a mechanical arm of gleaming chrome moved with unsettling precision, surrounded by orbiting micro-drones.
"Don't be alarmed," he said. His voice was low, confident. "I brought you here."
Seraphin's stance stiffened, her hand instinctively brushing the side of her waist where her chrono-dagger rested. "Who are you?"
He gave a small bow of his head. "Elio. Leader of the Riots Hub. And you must be the girl who fights beside the Chronox bearer."
Her heart skipped. Ron…
Elio continued, gesturing around them. "This is where the broken gather. Refugees, rebels, engineers—those who refuse to bow to the Null Walkers. We prepare for the day we tear Prime Rift Zone back from Sedrick's grasp. And you, Seraphin, might be the catalyst we've been waiting for."
As if to punctuate his words, Seraphin's gaze was drawn toward the far end of the chamber, where a massive object rested under a transparent energy dome. It was a clock, unlike any ordinary device—a towering structure of golden gears, polished glass, and a pendulum that once must have swung with celestial grace. But now the frame was fractured, the gears rusted in place, the pendulum hanging limp. Despite its ruin, the Greenwich Clock still pulsed faintly with temporal light, like the embers of a dying flame.
Seraphin approached slowly, her reflection dancing across the cracked glass surface. She felt its energy resonate with her very bones.
"What… is this?" she whispered.
Elio joined her side. "The Greenwich Clock. This mechanism was once the heart of Prime Rift, a temporal anchor that kept the land alive, green, thriving. It regulated the flow of seasons, nourished soil, kept rivers flowing. The people flourished under its beat. Until Sedrick and his Null Walkers shattered its Pendulum Core. Without it, this land rotted into the desert you saw."
Seraphin's jaw tightened. "If you fix it…?"
"Then Prime Rift will breathe again," Elio said, his artificial hand clenching. "But the Core lies in Sedrick's fortress. He keeps it as a trophy."
Seraphin turned to him, her eyes burning. "Then let's take it back."
The corner of Elio's lips twitched into a smirk. "Spoken like one of us. Good. Because we were already planning a counter-attack."
The rest of the night blurred into frantic preparation. Seraphin joined engineers, guiding them with her chrono knowledge. She explained how to recalibrate phase bullets so they pierced Null Walker barriers, and how to align shields to delay energy attacks. She infused weapons with small chrono-charges, giving rebels a fraction of time manipulation in battle. The rebels were stunned at her skill; for once, Seraphin felt she was no longer just following Ron—she was carving her own path.
And yet, every time she paused to breathe, his face returned to her mind. Where are you, Ron? Are you alive? Did Sedrick— She shook the thought away violently.
---
Far away, near the base of a shattered hill, Ron's body lay broken. His breath was shallow, his steel arm sparking faintly. He had no strength to move, no sense of time.
Then the darkness swallowed him, and he opened his eyes into a vast white void.
There, bathed in hazy light, stood Sara.
Her image was blurred, fragmented like a glitching hologram. Yet her voice carried warmth, fragile but real.
"Ron…"
His heart stopped. "Sara? Is it really you?"
She reached her hand out, but it trembled, her figure threatening to collapse into static.
"You must… look deeper. The Chronox… will show you."
The device on his wrist flared with violent energy. Images burst before him: a fragment of a map glowing with the Algorithm's sigil, burning itself into his vision. Ron reached for her—but her image shattered, scattering into sparks of light.
"Sara!" he shouted into the void, his voice breaking. "Don't leave me again!"
Darkness fell.
---
Ron's eyes cracked open. He was inside a cave, lying on straw mats warmed by the crackle of a fire. The air smelled of herbs and smoke. Pain shot through his chest as he tried to sit up.
Across the fire sat an old man, his long beard flowing like silver threads. His robes were ancient, stitched with faded sigils that resembled clocks and spirals of time. His eyes, though weary, glimmered with a light that seemed older than the land itself.
"I knew… someone would come," the man said slowly, his voice echoing with quiet certainty. "The Chronox has awakened again. And with it, destiny calls."
Ron blinked, still half-dazed. "Who… who are you?"
The old man leaned forward, studying him as though reading every scar. Then, he gave a faint smile.
"Names matter little to me. But once, they called me Azel—the Keeper of Forgotten Hours."
The firelight flared, casting long shadows on the cave walls. Ron could barely breathe, but a single thought burned in his mind.
Sara… what were you trying to tell me?
And thus, as Seraphin prepared for a rebellion in the Riots Hub, Ron's fate turned toward an ancient master of time.
To be continued…
---