The further Chakra walked into the labyrinth, the more the world outside felt like a distant dream. The laughter and mockery of the onlookers had faded, but the sting of their words lingered.
The corridors swallowed him in silence. The air was damp, filled with the smell of moss and something faintly metallic. Every step echoed back at him, reminding him that he was alone.
He adjusted his grip on the battered sword at his side. His hands were slick with sweat, though the labyrinth was cold. His heart hammered louder than his footsteps.
This is it, he thought, staring deeper into the maze. If I return with something… anything… maybe I won't be nothing anymore.
But the labyrinth was merciless.
A growl rolled through the air, low and guttural. Chakra froze. From the shadows ahead, a creature emerged—its body hunched and sinewy, with claws that scraped against the floor. Its eyes glowed faintly red, unblinking, hungry.
His throat went dry.
One monster. Just one. If I kill it, I'll survive. I have to.
He raised his sword, the blade trembling in his grip.
The beast lunged.
He swung desperately, the edge of the sword scraping across its hide. Black blood spattered the stone, but the wound was shallow. The monster barely flinched. It barreled into him, knocking him into the wall. Pain exploded through his chest. His vision blurred.
Coughing blood, Chakra staggered back onto his feet. His ribs screamed, but he forced his body to move. He had no choice.
The monster came again. This time, his blade struck deeper, carving into its shoulder. The beast shrieked, thrashing, but its claws slashed across his side. White-hot agony tore through him. He screamed, stumbling backward, the sword slipping from his grasp.
He collapsed onto the cold floor. Blood poured from the wound, warm and unstoppable. His chest heaved, but each breath was weaker than the last.
The monster loomed over him, saliva dripping from its jagged teeth. Its shadow swallowed him whole.
And then—everything went dark.
He opened his eyes to silence.
There was no stone beneath him, no monster, no labyrinth. Only emptiness. A void stretching endlessly, black and cold. His body was whole again, but his heart carried every scar, every sorrow.
Is this death?
The thought trembled in the dark, fragile, like him.
And then came the memories, sharp and merciless.
His parents' faces—warm, kind, smiling despite the hardships of life. Then the fire. The screaming. The monsters pouring into their city. He remembered clutching his mother's hand, her last words drowned out by roars. He remembered the sight of his father falling, blood soaking the ground. He had been powerless then. Just a boy. Just a shadow.
And now, after everything, nothing had changed. Powerless again. Dying again. Forgotten again.
Tears blurred his vision. His fists clenched uselessly at his sides.
Why was I even born? To suffer? To be trampled? To die like this?
But then—he saw it.
A light.
Faint, distant, yet undeniable. It pulsed softly, steady, like a heartbeat. Unlike the void, it was alive. It was… eternal.
Drawn to it, Chakra stumbled forward, his legs moving on their own. The closer he came, the clearer it became: a simple stopwatch, floating in the darkness. Its silver surface shimmered, runes shifting like liquid across its body. The air around it radiated something indescribable—something that felt like the very essence of time.
His breath caught.
The moment his fingers brushed the watch, the void shattered.
Flashes tore through his mind.
A battlefield beneath a sky split apart. Armies clashing, but not human ones—beings of light and shadow, titanic and incomprehensible. The heavens burned as gods themselves waged war.
And among them… a figure. Human in shape, yet impossibly vast in presence, holding the same stopwatch in his hand. With every tick, worlds trembled. With every turn, gods fell.
Chakra gasped, clutching his head. The visions were too vast, too alien. He couldn't understand them, couldn't hold them. They slipped away like water through his fingers, leaving only fragments burned into his mind.
A war.
A god.
And the stopwatch, at the center of it all.
When he opened his eyes again, he was back in the labyrinth. The cold stone pressed against his body, his blood still pooling around him. The monster's claws were raised above his chest, inches from piercing his heart.
But something was different.
The stopwatch rested in his hand, warm, glowing faintly. Its ticking echoed louder than his own heartbeat.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
The monster snarled and lunged.
And then, it stopped.
Its body stiffened. Cracks spread across its skin, racing down its arms and legs. Its glowing eyes dimmed, its roar turning into a brittle rasp. Before Chakra's stunned eyes, the beast began to crumble. Its flesh withered, its bones hollowed.
In the span of a heartbeat, centuries devoured it.
And then—it was nothing. A pile of ash scattered across the cold floor.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Chakra stared at the remains, his chest heaving. His wounds still ached, his body still broken, but he was alive. Alive because of the thing in his hand.
He looked down at the stopwatch. The runes across its surface shifted slowly, alive and incomprehensible. It ticked softly, steadily, like the heart of the world itself.
A laugh escaped him—broken, breathless, half-sobbing. He didn't even know why. Relief? Terror? Both.
He had come into the labyrinth to prove himself. To show that he wasn't nothing.
And now, holding the relic of the God of Time in his bloodstained hand, he realized—
His life had changed forever.