Lightning split the sky.
Not normal lightning—divine lightning. Thick, golden, twisting like snakes, tearing clouds apart. It cracked over the Black Pines, waking the forest like a war drum. The runes in my sword lit up without warning.
Alectra's eyes narrowed.
"They've found us."
I stood, heart already pounding. "The Conclave?"
"No," she said, voice low. "Something worse. They've sent him."
Then the air trembled.
No exaggeration. The air shook like water rippling from a stone drop. A wind spiraled in from nowhere, slow at first, then so fast the trees bent backward.
The world blurred.
I blinked—and he was just there.
Standing ten feet in front of me.
He looked like a man, but I knew better. His armor was white with silver veins running through it, carved with symbols I didn't understand. His cloak was black, stitched with ticking clock hands. His hair was long, silver, tied back with a leather cord. His eyes were clocks—actual spinning gears in a sea of starlight.
He didn't draw a weapon.
He didn't need to.
"Chronax," Alectra said coldly. "The Clockbreaker."
He glanced at her.
"Step aside, shadow witch. The Conclave has no quarrel with you."
Alectra drew twin curved blades from her back, edges humming with void energy.
"I trained him. That makes it my quarrel."
Chronax tilted his head slightly, then raised one finger.
Time froze.
Not like a metaphor.
Literally.
The wind stopped. The fire stopped crackling. Even the snow in mid-air stopped falling.
I couldn't move. My body was stuck.
Only my thoughts raced.
Then, slowly, my sword began to glow brighter. It hummed—angrier this time. A deep vibration that traveled up my arm and into my chest.
Crack.
Something broke.
Time—whatever prison I'd been trapped in—shattered around me like glass.
Chronax blinked.
"You're resisting?" His voice was smooth. Puzzled.
Alectra moved first.
She vanished and reappeared above him, blades coming down like lightning.
But he was faster.
With a single gesture, time slowed around her. She moved like molasses midair.
I shouted, rushing forward, swinging my blade in a wide arc.
Clang!
He caught it—barehanded.
The impact of steel on flesh caused a shockwave that split trees behind us.
He frowned slightly. "Divine steel. Your father's, no doubt."
I gritted my teeth, pushed harder.
Chronax flicked his wrist—and suddenly I was behind him, slammed into a tree I hadn't even seen.
Time skip.
I rolled to my feet, coughing.
Alectra broke free from the temporal freeze. She landed, flipping backwards, then slashed a ripple of void energy at him.
Chronax vanished.
Then he was beside me again.
No sound. No movement. Just—there.
"You shouldn't exist," he said quietly. "You're the flaw in our weave. The forgotten thread."
"I don't care," I snapped, lunging forward.
My blade ignited with black fire as I swung.
This time—I caught him off guard.
Slash.
His shoulder split open, blood like silver pouring out. His eyes flared.
"Impressive."
He raised both hands and the world around us warped.
Time spiraled—forward, backward. I saw my own body five steps ahead… and five steps behind. I saw Alectra fighting and dying and fighting again.
My head spun. Nausea hit me like a hammer.
Then his voice rang through the chaos.
"Welcome to the Hourglass."
My body slowed again.
He moved through the battlefield like a god walking through mortals. Every strike I threw, he was already past it. Every dodge I tried, he'd already countered it.
I bled.
A lot.
I dropped to one knee, vision doubling. My blade pulsed—once, twice—desperate.
Alectra landed beside me. "He's warping space through fixed temporal nodes. You can't beat him head-on."
"Then how do I hit what's already seen the future?" I spat, wiping blood from my mouth.
She glanced at my sword.
"It's not his future you need to see. It's yours."
She slammed both hands on the hilt of my blade.
Runes flared.
A rush of memories that weren't mine flooded my skull.
Battles. Names. Faces. Gods kneeling. Armies shattered. A woman in chains. A man with burning eyes standing before a throne made of screaming stars.
Then—me.
Older. Stronger. Holding this blade, surrounded by enemies, and winning.
It faded.
I was back.
But something inside me had shifted.
Chronax moved again—fast, too fast—and I saw it. Really saw it.
The lines of his movement. The way he curved space.
I stepped into his strike, twisted—then drove my blade into his side.
CRACK.
He screamed.
The Hourglass shattered.
Time returned.
Snow fell again.
Alectra struck next—blades slicing into his back, carving runes that bled light.
Chronax roared. He dropped to one knee.
"This isn't… possible," he said, stunned.
I walked toward him, blade still lit.
"You see time like a river. But rivers can be dammed. Flooded. Redirected."
I raised the sword.
He didn't beg.
He smiled.
"Good," he whispered. "You're not ready yet. But you will be."
Then he disappeared.
Not teleported—vanished.
Gone from all timelines.
I collapsed.
Alectra caught me.
"Your body won't hold much longer if you keep channeling the blade like that," she said.
I coughed. "He could've killed us."
"He was testing. Measuring you for something."
"What?"
She looked at the sky.
"The gods are preparing to decide who rules next. The old pantheons are fracturing. They want to erase all rogue bloodlines before it begins."
I stared at her.
"Then we need to move faster."
She helped me stand.
"There's a city buried beneath the Dustspine Mountains. Before the gods built their thrones, it was home to one of the greatest divine forges. You'll need what's inside to survive what's coming."
"What is it?"
She looked at me with something like fear in her eyes.
"A crown. One that only a true heir of the Forgotten Gods can wear."