A map carved in bone. Coordinates that changed every hour. And a name: The Shatterpoint.
Lyra walked across the drifting plates of the Exo-Wastes, each step sinking her deeper into timelines that had collapsed in on themselves. Beneath her boots, centuries flickered like reflections in broken glass.
The Epoch Shard whispered memories not her own. She felt Damien's first lie. RIVEN's final doubt. The Keeper Eidra's silent scream.
At last, she arrived at the Shatterpoint.
It wasn't a place. It was a decision.
Before her stood a gate of null-light. Beyond it: a future that didn't want to happen. One she'd have to force into being.
Her hands trembled. The shard pulsed.
She stepped through.
And time—shattered.