There are things in this world that defy reason—remnants of the divine and the damned, forged in an age when gods and demons walked the earth.
They are called Artifacts.
Each Artifact carries the echo of its maker—divine grace or infernal fury—binding its wielder to a fragment of that forgotten power. Some grant strength enough to move mountains, others twist the flow of elements, or bend reality itself.
To wield an Artifact is to share a bond with something beyond mortal comprehension. It is not simply a tool; it is a contract. Those who awaken one must bear its will… and its curse.
Throughout the last decade, since the Gates appeared and labyrinths began to scar the earth, humanity has fought and died to claim these Artifacts. They are treasures of the impossible symbols of power and salvation, but also of ruin.
And somewhere, far from the glittering towers of the new world, a man opened his eyes to the faint hum of machines.
Chakra woke to the soft beeping of a heart monitor.
The air was heavy with the sterile scent of medicine. Bright light pressed against his eyelids until he blinked it away. A ceiling—white, spotless, and too calm to be real—stared back at him.
His head throbbed. His throat burned. Every muscle screamed protest as he tried to move.
He wasn't dead. Somehow, against every odd stacked against him in that cursed labyrinth… he was alive.
He shifted slightly under the blanket, the movement pulling at the bandages wrapped around his torso. His eyes darted around the room—small, clean, quiet. A hospital.
And then the memories crashed back.
The monster.
The blood.
The darkness.
The watch.
His heart pounded as he fumbled at his side, ignoring the pain. His fingers brushed against the familiar shape inside his pocket—cold, metallic, unassuming. He pulled it out carefully.
The stopwatch gleamed faintly in the morning light, its surface reflecting his tired face. For a second, it looked… ordinary. Too ordinary.
No faint light, no humming energy. Just a watch—simple, circular, and cracked along one edge, as if it had been broken ages ago.
He turned it over in his hand, half-expecting it to tick, to pulse with that strange warmth again. Nothing.
It was as if the thing that had devoured the monster and saved him no longer existed.
A bitter laugh escaped his lips. "Figures," he muttered weakly. "Even miracles don't last."
He leaned back against the pillow, staring at the ceiling. Maybe it had all been a dying illusion—a desperate trick of the mind before death.
But deep down, he knew better. He could still feel it—the faint hum beneath his skin, like time itself whispered around his heartbeat.
Before he could think further, the door slid open.
Three figures entered. All wore black coats marked with the IRO insignia—a pair of wings circling a clock.
"Chakra Verne?" the lead officer asked, his tone polite but firm. "I'm Officer Hale from the IRO South Branch. We'd like to ask you a few questions regarding the South Mumbai Labyrinth incident."
IRO—International Research Organization.
Formed after the first Gate opened, they managed and studied everything connected to the labyrinths: monsters, Artifacts, spatial anomalies. If they were here, that meant something inside the labyrinth had drawn official attention.
Chakra blinked, confused for a moment. "How long was I out?"
"Three days," Hale replied, glancing at his notepad. "You were found unconscious at the labyrinth's entrance. No other entrants were detected."
Chakra's throat tightened. "That's because… I went in alone."
The officer's brows lifted slightly. "Alone? That's a death sentence for a E-rank Explorer, isn't it?"
A bitter smile tugged at Chakra's lips. "No one wanted me on their team. Guess they were right."
Hale didn't respond immediately. He merely scribbled a note before continuing, "There was significant spatial distortion in the labyrinth before it collapsed. And reports suggest the core creature was eliminated… though no remains were found. What happened in there?"
Chakra's eyes dimmed as the memories clawed their way back—the screech of the beast, the suffocating darkness, the taste of blood in his mouth, and the light of the watch glowing in his hand.
He hesitated.
Then, he spoke quietly, choosing his words carefully.
"I fought it. Barely. I don't even remember how I survived. Everything went black. When I woke up, the labyrinth was gone."
Hale studied him closely, his expression unreadable. "So you claim you defeated the core beast… alone?"
Chakra's jaw tightened. "I didn't say that. I just… survived."
Another pause. Then Hale nodded slowly. "We'll be monitoring your condition for a while. If you recall anything else—energy surges, strange sounds, relics—you are legally obligated to report it to the IRO."
"Sure," Chakra murmured, his gaze flicking to the watch hidden beneath the blanket. "If I remember anything."
The three officers left as quietly as they'd come. The room fell back into silence, broken only by the steady hum of machines.
For a long while, Chakra sat there, staring blankly at the door.
Then, slowly, he pulled out the stopwatch again.
He traced a finger across its cracked surface.
"You saved me…" he whispered, "…didn't you?"
The air in the room shifted.
A faint vibration passed through his fingertips—barely noticeable, but there.
Then, without warning—
Ding.
A soft chime echoed in his head. His vision blurred, and a faint, blue luminescence rippled before his eyes.
A window—translucent, alive with shifting symbols—appeared out of thin air.
[System Initialization…]
[Chronic Artifact Detected.]
[Compatibility: 89%.]
[Synchronizing with Host…]
His breath hitched. The room felt distant, unreal.
[Synchronization Complete.]
[Welcome, Successor of Time.]
The window faded, leaving only a faint ticking sound—soft, rhythmic, ancient.
He stared ahead in disbelief.
His mind screamed to rationalize it, to call it a hallucination or post-trauma illusion. But the faint ticking that echoed in his chest told another story.
The stopwatch lay still in his palm—its face dull, yet somehow… alive.
He could feel it now. Not as an object, but as something aware—watching him, weighing him.
Chakra leaned back slowly, eyes wide, heart pounding.
The monster, the void, the visions—it had all been real.
And whatever this was… whatever system had awakened within him…
It wasn't finished yet.
Outside his room, the world went on in silence—unaware that within the walls of an ordinary hospital, Time itself had just awakened.