The stars had dimmed.
Silence stretched across the fractured expanse where the Absence had once stood. The void, once consumed by its presence, began to collapse inward, folding back into the spaces between worlds. But Steven knew better than to believe the threat was over. The battle had only just begun.
"Is it done?" Steven asked, his voice ragged but resolute, his staff still crackling with the remnants of the battle.
The Starwright remained still, a figure of quiet contemplation. "Done? No. But you have struck a blow. The Absence may retreat for now, but the scars of this encounter are far-reaching."
A tremor shook the air, the very fabric of reality itself vibrating.
"You've altered the course of fate, Starcaster," the Starwright continued. "And in doing so, you've drawn the attention of forces far older than you can comprehend."
Steven frowned, stepping forward, his eyes narrowing at the glowing remnants of the forge's energy. "You said that before—the price for wielding the Soulbound Future."
The Starwright turned, his expression unreadable. "The power you hold comes with a heavy burden. The Codex was forged not to grant its wielder ultimate dominion, but to balance creation and destruction. A force that holds the power to rewrite fate is never without consequence. You've pulled yourself into a conflict far beyond your own world."
Steven tightened his grip on his staff. "I've come this far. I'm not backing down now."
"I would expect no less," the Starwright replied, his voice somber. "But you must understand this, Starcaster. The Absence is but one force in the grand cosmic war. There are those who wield time and space as their weapons, and others who seek only to watch all creation burn. If you are to stand against them, you will need more than just your will and the Codex."
The void around them seemed to pulse, the edges of reality curling inwards once again, a reminder of the threat looming just beyond the horizon.
"Then I'll find a way," Steven said, determination surging through him. "I've already rewritten the rules once. I'll do it again if I have to."
The Starwright's eyes flickered with something like approval. "Perhaps. But the path you choose will not be an easy one. You are no longer merely a player in this game, Starcaster. You are a target."
As the words settled in the air between them, the ground beneath Steven's feet began to shift.
A portal materialized, a vortex swirling with energies that twisted time itself. From within it, a figure emerged—clad in shimmering armor, its face obscured by a golden helm.
Steven's grip on his staff tightened. "Another one of them?"
The figure stepped forward, and a voice, calm yet powerful, rang out. "I am Azariel, the Timewarden. I come not as your enemy, but as your guide."
The name struck Steven like a bolt of lightning. The Timewarden. A being said to walk between the ages of time, a guardian who was both a threat and an ally.
"Guide?" Steven asked, skeptical, but keeping his guard up. "I didn't think I needed one."
Azariel's eyes gleamed from behind the helm. "The forces you've set into motion are beyond anything you've faced. The Absence is but the beginning. There are others who will not be as merciful."
The figure stepped aside, revealing a shimmering portal that stretched like a rift through time itself.
"You will need to understand the true nature of the Codex," Azariel continued, "and the legacy of those who came before you. Time itself is a river, and you have just disturbed its flow. Come, Starcaster. The war beyond time awaits you."
Steven hesitated, the weight of Azariel's words sinking in. The Starwright's warning still echoed in his mind—the Codex, the balance, the price.
But there was no turning back.
He stepped forward.
"Let's end this."
The moment his foot crossed the threshold, the world shifted again. Time bent, the very air around him warping like liquid.
And suddenly, he was no longer standing on a fractured platform surrounded by stars.
He stood in the heart of a battlefield.
The ground beneath him was scorched, littered with the remnants of broken weapons, the echoes of past battles lingering in the air. Around him, strange, ethereal beings clashed in a storm of light and darkness. Time was fractured here, reality bending and warping as it collided with itself.
Azariel stood beside him, his eyes scanning the chaos with unsettling calm.
"This is the Timewar," Azariel said, his voice almost lost in the cacophony. "A conflict that spans the ages. You will not leave until you understand its true nature."
Steven clenched his fists. "Then teach me."
The war raged on around them, but Steven knew one thing for certain.
He had no choice but to
win.
---
(To be continued)