"When time
fractures, it bleeds memories in reverse. And those who listen... hear echoes
of what hasn't happened yet."
The mist had thinned, but only slightly. Eric walked alone
through the cracked, empty roads of Embakasi's industrial zone. Streetlights
flickered. This was so strange because no power ran through the city grid.
He walked on nonetheless, his steps echoed, unchallenged by
wind or birdsong. Then silence was still there.
Then came the bells. They sounded distant yet melodic. One
could think the bells were of a chapel buried under concrete and still ringing.
But still, Eric walked on. He turned a corner and froze on
the spot.
A man stood in the middle of the crossroad. He was old. His
skin was paper-thin and veined like river maps. His eyes were white, yet
unseeing. Around his neck hung seventeen timepieces, each stuck at different
hours. He held a metallic cube that floated just above his hand, humming with
soft, golden light.
The man at the Crossroads spoke to him.
"You shouldn't be here, Seeker 04-02. This is a lost hour.
You were not meant to remember it."
Eric's breath caught. "How do you know who I am?"
"Because you told me,
twice; in Hour 39 then again in Hour 9. You cried both times."
Eric frowned. "What… We are just at hour 70! What does that
mean?"
"It means time
doesn't care about the order anymore. Only the pattern." As he said those words
the man turned the cube.
A ripple swept through the air. The road beneath them
morphed briefly into glass—revealing a burning city beneath, upside-down and
screaming.
Then it was gone.
"Find the Architect
before Hour 65," the man warned, his face twitching. "She remembers the plans.
And she remembers you. Even though she hasn't met you yet."
He began to fade literally like ink dissolving in water.
"Don't go north," he whispered. "The sky eats thoughts
there."
With those last words he was gone, just like that.
"System, what was that?" Eric enquired, wondering how he had
suddenly entered the future. The system replied at length. It wrote;
" [Temporal Echo Encountered ]"
"[Entity: The Time-Orphan]"
"[He is a Fragmented
Seer-Class anomaly.]"
"[ Threat Level: Harmless
unless provoked.]"
"[ Currently exists
in 3 simultaneous hours.]"
"[Risk Level:
Grey.]"
[New System Alert:
Skill Slot Expansion Available.]
Eric stood still, not from fear but from awe.
But without prior warning, Eric again found himself standing
in front of a structure that never existed before.
He didn't remember a clock tower being in the city. But now,
it stood right in front of him—jutting 17 stories high, black and metallic,
leaning ever-so-slightly to the left. The plaque near the gate read:
"Built Tomorrow,
Forgotten Today."
This again, as with the man and the visions, from the
future. His system pinged.
" [Temporal Structure: The Tower of Forgotten Minutes]"
"Visibility: Limited to 17 minutes every 6 hours."
"Current Status:
Open."
"Warning: Exiting after temporal seal engages
will not be possible."
The Tower was currently visible, but only for the next 17
minutes. After that temporal seal would engage and anybody inside it would
never be able to leave.
At that instant, Eric was compelled to enter the clock
tower. He hesitated, then, slowly, he entered.
Inside, the air was thick—like walking into underwater time.
The walls were lined with screens, each flickering through people's memories,
but reversed. Births played backwards into wombs. Laughter collapsed into
tears. Fights turned into embraces.
A woman passed him on the stairs—her mouth stitched shut,
her eyes radiating calm.
And as she passed Eric she mouthed to him. "She's waiting on
the 13th floor."
Eric recalled that he was instructed to meet the Architect.
Could she be the one. Quickly he climbed the various levels of the clock tower.
He had only seventeen minutes, and clock was ticking.
Each floor bent reality more. On the 11th floor, gravity
switched sideways. On the 12th, he saw himself climbing before he actually
climbed. By the 13th...He met her. Her tittle was, "The Architect of
the Lost Hour."
She sat on a throne of spiralling copper wires. Her skin was
tattooed with maps of cities that didn't exist. Her left eye was a gear, always
turning.
"Eric," she said, as if bored. "You made it earlier than
last time."
He approached carefully. "Who are you?" Eric asked, stung by
her words which implied he had been there before.
"I'm the one who designed the veil that hides the truth. I'm
also the one who's now regretting it."
She snapped her fingers.
A hologram burst into view. It was the Earth, as Eric knew
it, but burning at the edges.
"This world ends not because of a storm. But because we
built our defence upside-down," she said, then paused.
Eric's system flickered, as if it were working in
conjunction with the Architect.
"[New Sub-Quest:
Reconstruct the Key of Resonant Thresholds (0/3 Fragments)]:
The system went silent and the Architect continued:
"Yes, find those three
fragments. They are scattered across the remaining sectors. You'll need them by
Hour 62. Or nothing we do after that will matter."
Eric frowned. "Wait, I thought this was all nature going
wild. Weather anomalies. Superstorms."
She laughed, a jagged sound.
"No. That's just the surface. Beneath it—there's something
worse. Something released. The weather is just the planet's body convulsing."
She leaned close and spoke with all seriousness. "You need
to remember who you are before the world forgets it for you."
Then the bell rang. 17 minutes had passed. Eric had no time
to linger. He recalled the words of the system, after meeting the Time Orphan.
The tower began to shudder, metal tearing away like paper.
Eric ran—barely making it out before the structure vanished behind him.
His breath ragged, Eric ducked into an alleyway. The street
had changed again. More fog, more silence. But this time, something was
watching.
He heard it first—a dry, metallic click—then saw it. This
was a strange creature, a tall humanoid figure. It had a skin like cracked
asphalt and a long black coat fused to its spine. Its face was blank except for
a gaping circular hole where its mouth should be.
His system notified him immediately of the threat at hand.
"[Threat Detected:
Hunter-Class Construct — "WRAITHHOUND"]"
"[Function: Seeker Termination Unit.]"
"[Level: UNKNOWN.]"
"[WARNING: Combat Not Recommended.]: "[Escape Protocol
Suggested.]"
"So they're hunting Seekers. I am being hunted by this
creature!" Eric affirmed.
The creature turned its head slowly—and sniffed.
Eric's system offered one word:
"Run."
He obeyed.
He ducked into an abandoned slaughterhouse, heart pounding,
breath sharp. The Wraithhound's steps echoed—slow, patient, deliberate.
His hand brushed against a meat hook—then stopped. He had
seen something in his vision but couldn't place it. It was a sigil, burned into
the steel.
He focused, then commanded his first skill, the Aether
Pulse.
"Pulse."
The room shimmered.
Another glyph appeared beneath his feet. Ancient. Alive.
His system flared:
" [Node Detected: Memory Sigil – Inner Eye Unlock
Available.]"
"Skill Acquired: [Second Sight]"
"[You may now glimpse the immediate past or future (±5
seconds) of anything you touch.]" "[Cooldown: 2 minutes.]"
He touched the hook again, and his mind flooded. He got
glimpses of images of the Wraithhound walking here an hour ago. The creature paused
and sniffed the air. Then… bowed to something unseen.
Then he saw himself—dying.
He would die in the future, unless…
He grabbed a chain and waited. The Wraithhound entered.
"Now," he whispered.
He triggered the hook rigging. A 600-pound slab of frozen
beef slammed into the Wraithhound's side, knocking it across the room.
It didn't kill it, but it bought him time to escape.
Outside, he ran until his lungs bled. Above him, the sky
blinked. Yes—blinked. Like an eye, and the eye was watching.
Eric continued running, and as he crossed the threshold of a
burned-out church, his system whispered:
"Welcome to the Last Sanctuary of Hour 70."