The echoes of the battle still resonated across the crumbling battlefield. The dust from the clash between the Regressor and Steven hung in the air, a ghostly reminder of the power that had been unleashed. The time-warping energies were still heavy, making every breath feel thick, like the very air was charged with possibility.
Steven stood, his staff still crackling with the remnants of power, eyes fixed on the horizon where the rift had begun to close. The battlefield had quieted for now, but he knew this peace was fleeting. There was always more to come.
"The Regressors have retreated for now, but don't get comfortable," Azariel warned, his voice a somber reminder of the ongoing war. "Their defeat here is just a small victory in the grand scheme of the Timewar. The greater battle lies ahead."
Steven nodded but didn't take his eyes off the horizon. "I know. But I feel like... I'm getting closer. The Codex—my connection to it—it's growing stronger."
Azariel tilted his head, studying Steven. "You're learning how to bend time, yes, but there's more to it than that. Time isn't just a tool to control. It's a force—a living, breathing entity. The Codex is more than just a weapon. It's a key."
"A key?" Steven asked, turning to face him. "To what?"
"To the Hourglass." Azariel's words hung in the air like a secret, a dangerous one that carried the weight of untold power. "The Hourglass is the core of time itself. If you can master it, you will have the ability to reshape reality. To create or destroy entire timelines, to bend the very fabric of existence to your will. But such power comes at a cost."
Steven's heart beat faster. "And what cost is that?"
Azariel's expression hardened. "To control time, you must first understand it. The Hourglass isn't just a symbol of power—it's a mirror to the soul. Only those who truly understand time's nature can wield it without being consumed."
Before Steven could ask more, a sudden flash of light erupted from the rift. It wasn't the usual violent crackle of chaotic energy, but something much more focused. In the distance, a figure appeared—tall, garbed in golden armor, with a cloak made of shifting starlight. This figure wasn't from either side of the war. This being exuded an aura of calm authority, the kind that made Steven feel small in comparison.
"Who is that?" Steven asked, his hand instinctively moving toward his staff.
"That," Azariel whispered, "is the Keeper of the Hourglass."
The Keeper walked forward, their every movement as if in sync with the flow of time. The ground beneath them seemed to shift with each step, the air itself bending to their will. As they reached Steven, the world seemed to hold its breath.
"Starcaster," the Keeper's voice was like the ringing of a distant bell, clear and eternal. "You have come far. But you have yet to understand the true nature of your journey."
Steven stood taller, despite the strange feeling the Keeper gave him. "What do you mean? I've learned a lot. I can control time."
The Keeper's gaze was piercing, but not unkind. "Control is an illusion. Time is not a servant to be commanded—it is a force to be understood. It cannot be bent to your will without consequence. To truly master it, you must first accept that you cannot control it. You must become part of it."
Steven frowned, frustration building. "You make it sound so simple, but I'm already fighting for something bigger than myself. People's lives, the future—it's not just some lesson I can take lightly."
"I never said it was simple," the Keeper replied, their tone softening. "And I don't take lightly the fate you now carry. But your journey isn't just about saving the present. It's about the balance of all things—the past, the present, and the future. The choices you make here will ripple through all of time. If you fall, it will not be just you who suffers. It will be every timeline, every reality, every world."
Steven clenched his fists. "Then I'll fight. I'll do whatever it takes to protect this world. The future deserves a chance."
The Keeper nodded slowly. "Your heart is strong. But you must not let your emotions cloud your judgment. You are a warrior, yes. But you are also a student. And only when you understand the true nature of time—its fluidity, its elasticity—will you become its master."
Suddenly, the ground shook violently. "No time for lessons now," Azariel muttered, his eyes scanning the battlefield. "The Regressors are not finished."
Steven turned toward the source of the disturbance. The rift had opened wider, and figures—hundreds of them—were pouring through. Regressors, Temporal Guardians, and even some Chronomancers, all caught in the chaos of the Timewar. A tidal wave of conflict had erupted, and the sky above was darkened by the weight of their arrival.
The Keeper stepped forward, raising their hand. "This war will not end until you decide its course, Starcaster. The power is yours, but you must use it wisely."
Steven took a deep breath. The battle was far from over, and the path ahead was treacherous. But one thing was certain: he would not back down.
He raised his staff, feeling the surge of the Codex's power coursing through him, the energy flowing like an unstoppable river. Time was not his enemy. It was his ally. And with it, he would fight.
"Let's end this."
The sky cracked open as the first wave of enemies descended upon him, but Steven was ready. His journey had only just begun, and he would shape the future with his own hands.
---
(To be continued)