The rain had been falling since sunset, the kind of light drizzle that carried the scent of wet earth and a faint metallic tang from the dormitory's iron railings.
Somewhere in the city, distant thunder rolled lazily, like the world was yawning.
Riven Takarashi sat alone in his dorm room, hunched over his desk.
In front of him stood the most precious thing he owned, a glass hourglass framed with black steel, its sand glowing a soft golden hue.
The Hourglass of Time Reaper.
His immortality. His weapon. His curse.
And right now… something was wrong.
The golden sand was still flowing, but it wasn't flowing down.
It was trickling up, back into the upper chamber, as if time itself had decided to moonwalk just to mess with him.
"...That's not good," Riven muttered, leaning in closer.
His reflection in the glass seemed just a little different, sharper cheekbones, a faint crease near his eyes.
He frowned. "Yeah, that's definitely not good."
From the corner of the room, a voice chimed in with the smugness of someone who'd been waiting all week to roast him.
AIRA: "Well, well… looks like someone's anti-aging cream finally betrayed them."
Riven groaned and turned his head toward the small holo-emitter in the corner, the portable form of AIRA. "Not now, hard drive. My Hourglass is losing time… and I'm not even using it."
AIRA: "Correction! You're being robbed. The time flow inside your Hourglass is reversing. Slowly, but it's steady. Like a leaky faucet, except the water is your lifespan."
Riven's frown deepened.
That word — reversing — hit like a punch.
There was only one way that could happen.
A fake.
A reverse-built copy.
"…Oh hell no." He grabbed his long coat from the back of his chair, threw it on, and reached for the Hourglass, looping its chain around his neck.
The weight of it felt… lighter. Too light.
Without another word, he shoved open the window and climbed out onto the narrow ledge.
Cold night air slapped him in the face as he dropped down onto the dorm's fire escape, his boots clanging against the metal rungs.
Somewhere out there, he could feel it, something like a tug.
Not on his body, but on his very time.
Rooftop
By the time he made it to the rooftop, the drizzle had turned into a mist that clung to the air.
He stood there, the city lights bleeding into the fog below, gripping the Hourglass in one hand.
The golden sand swirled, not with its usual hypnotic rhythm, but erratically like it was being pulled from somewhere far away.
"This feels like a signature," he murmured.
Behind him, footsteps crunched softly against the wet rooftop tiles.
"Planning to jump," came Asvara's voice, "or just enjoying the breeze?"
Riven didn't look back. "Neither. My Hourglass is bleeding time. Which means only one thing that someone out there has a fake."
Asvara stepped beside him, hands tucked casually in his pockets. His expression was calm, but there was a glint in his eyes, the kind he got when a puzzle was dropped in his lap.
"A fake?"
"Not just any fake," Riven said, finally turning to look at him. "A reverse replica. The Hourglass of Time Robber. It doesn't just steal time from people. It steals from mine. That's not just killing me, Asvara… it's undoing me."
Asvara smirked faintly. "Looks like you've got a fan."
"Yeah, a fan who's murdering me very slowly."
Before Asvara could reply, a voice drifted up from the street below.
Feminine, cool, and laced with amusement.
"Oh, I wouldn't kill you," the voice said. "Not yet."
Both men turned toward the edge of the rooftop.
Down on the slick pavement stood a woman in a long black coat, her posture relaxed as if she'd just stepped out for a casual midnight stroll.
Her hair shimmered faintly under the streetlamp, not red, not pink, but somewhere in between, the color of twilight bleeding into roses.
In her hands, she held an hourglass made entirely of crystal.
The sand inside was jet-black, flowing upwards.
"Name's Roseley," she said, smiling as if she were introducing herself at a tea party. "And you, Mr. Time Reaper… owe me a few seconds."
As if on cue, Riven's Hourglass flared.
The golden sand surged up at an alarming speed, vanishing into the upper chamber.
He staggered back a step, his breath catching as he felt a wave of weakness roll through his limbs.
"...She's already pulling it," he hissed.
AIRA: "Oh, fantastic. She's draining your life force and making small talk. How polite."
Roseley tilted her head. "It's not small talk. It's reclamation."
Asvara stepped forward, the lazy smile gone from his face. "You're working for Isorropia."
"Not exactly." Roseley's tone was light, almost playful. "Let's just say… Eldrose Dreyvich sent me to tidy up an anomaly that's been cluttering the timeline for far too long."
Riven's patience snapped.
Golden sand burst from his Hourglass, swirling into the air around him like a miniature galaxy.
"Sandstorm Timestream."
The air in a ten-meter radius thickened, time itself slowing to a crawl.
The raindrops hung suspended in midair, each one a glittering bead.
But Roseley just smiled and twirled her crystal Hourglass in her hand.
The black sand inside spun faster, and in the blink of an eye, the frozen raindrops began to fall again.
The effect broke and worse, several grains of Riven's golden sand were sucked straight into her Hourglass.
"Cute trick," she said sweetly. "But mine's the upgrade."
Asvara sighed, stepping between them. "Alright, kids, that's enough foreplay. I'm not letting you turn the rooftop into a paradox playground."
He lifted one hand, and the air shimmered.
From the Subspace Archive, a weathered Spartan war banner unfurled into existence, its crimson cloth stained with centuries-old battle scars.
It drifted down like a curtain, separating the two anomalies.
"Riven, inside. We'll deal with her later."
Roseley raised an eyebrow. "I'm not going anywhere. Time always finds its way back to the thief."
She turned, her boots splashing through a shallow puddle as she vanished into the misty street.
But the golden sand in Riven's Hourglass kept swirling upwards.
Back inside, Riven collapsed into the massive beanbag chair he'd claimed as his personal throne.
His breathing was steady, but his eyes were dark.
AIRA: "Congratulations. You've officially met your anti-self. If this were an RPG, she'd be your secret boss. Probably drops a 0.1% loot too."
"Not. Helping."
Asvara sat down at his desk, a holographic map flickering to life in front of him.
Thin lines of light connected across the city, tracing pulses of temporal energy.
One point — a sharp, red glow — pulsed in the far west.
"We find Eldrose," Asvara said. "Cut the root, the branches die."
Riven shook his head. "No. Roseley's not just a weapon. She's… curious. You don't look someone in the eye like that if you're just doing a job. If I can figure out why she's doing this, maybe I can turn her."
Asvara gave him a long look.
Then a faint grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"You're thinking like me now," he said. "Dangerous habit."
Riven's Dorm, at the night
The war room or as the rest of the school called it, Riven's dorm room was lit only by the soft glow of the holographic map projected over the low table.
AIRA floated lazily in the corner as a mini hologram, tapping an imaginary pen against an imaginary clipboard, like she was grading everyone's life choices.
Kenji was sprawled across one beanbag, arms crossed.
Lyra sat primly on another, though her eyes flicked between the map, Asvara, and the faintly glowing Hourglass around Riven's neck.
Asvara stood near the projection, hands in his pockets, gaze locked on the red pulse marking the west side of the city.
Riven broke the silence first."So. We all agree that my time is being stolen. Literally. And the thief's name is Roseley. She works under someone named Eldrose Dreyvich."
Kenji tilted his head. "Never heard of him. Sounds like some pretentious rich guy who hosts wine parties."
AIRA: "Close. Replace 'wine parties' with 'anomaly experimentation labs' and you've got the general idea."
Lyra arched a brow. "Anomaly experimentation… like, the creepy kind?"
Riven leaned back in his chair.
"The only kind. Eldrose isn't just some rogue anomaly but he's one of Isorropia's pet projects. A chronomancer. Obsessive about time control. He can't create time, so he decided to break the rules instead: build devices, artifacts, anomalies that rewrite it."
Asvara's tone was calm, but there was steel underneath. "Eldrose is the reason half of the timeline anomalies we've seen in the last decade even exist. The man treats the flow of time like it's a sandbox and he's the only kid with a shovel."
Kenji snorted. "Sounds like the kind of guy I'd like to hit with my bokken."
AIRA: "You'd have to hit his past, his present, and his future all at once. I'll draw you a diagram later."
Lyra crossed her arms. "And this… Roseley? She's his… apprentice?"
Riven's eyes narrowed slightly.
"More like… weapon. The Hourglass of Time Robber she's carrying? That's his design. It's tuned for me specifically to steal from my Hourglass. Eldrose didn't just want to hurt me. He wanted to prove he could undo me."
Kenji sat forward, clearly itching for action. "Okay, so where is this guy? Let's go kick his—"
"—Not that simple," Asvara cut in, raising a hand. "Eldrose is a chess player. Every move he makes is to bait a response. If we go in swinging, we'll end up exactly where he wants us."
Kenji groaned. "Bro, with you everything turns into a chessboard."
"Because life is a chessboard," Asvara said smoothly, moving a holographic pawn forward with one finger. "And right now, Eldrose just advanced his opening."
AIRA: "Also, your 'rook' is bleeding golden sand at a dangerous rate."
Riven shot her a look. "Helpful as always, hard drive."
Lyra: "So what's the plan? Are we… taking her out?"
Asvara: "No. Not yet. If we eliminate Roseley without dealing with Eldrose, he'll just build another one. And next time, maybe he'll make it even worse. We need to find where he's working from and shut it down at the source."
Kenji: "And to do that, we…?"
Riven: "We let her come to me."
Kenji blinked. "That's… your plan? Just let her keep stealing your lifespan until she's bored?"
Riven smirked faintly. "No. I'm going to let her think she's winning. People who think they're winning get sloppy. Sloppy people make mistakes."
Asvara gave a faint approving nod. "Good. You've been paying attention."
Kenji rolled his eyes. "Oh great, now there's two of you."
AIRA: "Two tacticians. Double the smug. We're all doomed."
The map's red pulse quickened, a sharp reminder that time, quite literally, was running out.
Asvara finally broke the lingering silence."We move at dawn. Riven, you'll be bait. Kenji, you'll cover him. Lyra—"
"I'll do recon," Lyra cut in, standing. "If this Roseley likes showing up uninvited, I'll be the one who catches her in the act."
Kenji smirked. "Sounds like you're volunteering for the danger seat."
She shot him a dry look. "If you think I'm letting you two idiots handle this alone, you clearly don't know me."
Riven chuckled under his breath. "She's got a point."
Asvara allowed himself the smallest smile. "Alright. Everyone get some rest. Tomorrow, we start pulling at the threads. And Eldrose… will feel it."
The first rule of The Immortal Game:Never let your opponent know which piece you've decided is expendable.
Asvara didn't bother writing that down.
Everyone in the room knew he'd already played this opening in his head twenty-seven different ways before the rest of them even sat down.
03:47 AM – Abandoned Train Yard, West District
The cold night air stung with that metallic tang of frost and rust.
Old freight cars loomed in the dark like sleeping giants, their peeling paint marked with graffiti that seemed to glare at the intruders.
Somewhere deep inside the yard, a faint tick… tick… tick echoed.
Not from a clock, but from the hourglass inside Riven's chest, leaking golden sand into the void.
"Y'know," Kenji whispered, gripping his bokken. "I feel like we've done too many 'meet the bad guy in creepy abandoned place' missions lately. Can't we do one in, I dunno… a bakery?"
AIRA (in everyone's earpiece): "This is technically a 'robbery in progress' scenario. If Roseley had chosen a bakery, you'd be dead under a pile of croissants by now."
Riven adjusted the scarf around his neck, his voice calm but laced with annoyance. "She's here."
Asvara didn't even glance up from the holographic chessboard flickering faintly in his palm.
Each move was mirrored in the way he positioned the team, pawns advancing, knights circling.
The game wasn't just a metaphor; it was the map.
From the shadows, she emerged.
Roseley.
Her presence warped the air.
The Hourglass of Time Robber at her hip glowed with a deep crimson light, the sand inside swirling backward instead of falling.
She smiled, her eyes sharp with the kind of amusement predators have before a kill.
"Well," she purred, "if it isn't the famous Time Reaper and… friends."
Kenji muttered under his breath, "That's Mister 'Friends' to you."
Asvara: "You're early. I hadn't even finished my coffee."
Roseley: "And yet, you came anyway. How very… predictable."
AIRA: "She's trying to provoke you. In unrelated news, her coat is worth more than Riven's entire hourglass collection."
Riven ignored the jab, stepping forward. "You've been stealing from me."
Roseley tilted her head. "Borrowing. With no return policy."
The opening was calm — too calm. Asvara let it stay that way.
Kenji fidgeted, waiting for a signal that didn't come.
Lyra's eyes tracked every move, her instincts screaming that something else was in play.
Then the air shifted.
The freight car behind them creaked, metal groaning.
Out stepped the second piece on Eldrose's board.
Bishop-class anomaly.
Tall, faceless, robed in black, its staff etched with shifting runes that seemed to erase themselves as soon as you looked at them.
The temperature dropped five degrees instantly.
Kenji hissed, "Okay, now we're talking boss fight."
Asvara: "No. This isn't the boss fight. This is the opening gambit."
Riven tightened his grip on the Hourglass chain. "Asvara—"
"I know."And Asvara's eyes finally lifted from the chessboard.
Move twenty-two. Pawn to E5.
"Kenji, you're on the Bishop. Lyra, disrupt Roseley's line of sight. Riven…"His voice was razor-sharp now."…let her take the bait."
The yard exploded into chaos.
Kenji's bokken met the Bishop's staff with a crack that sent vibrations through the frozen ground.
Lyra darted through the gaps, every step precise, eyes never leaving Roseley.
Riven advanced slowly, deliberately, sand trailing from his Hourglass like spilled blood.
AIRA: "Fun fact — statistically, three of you are about to make very bad life decisions."
Asvara didn't move to fight. Not yet.
He walked, unhurried, through the chaos, every step syncing with the moves of his invisible game.
Roseley's smirk widened. "You're really going to just let me drain him?"
Asvara: "Yes."
The word hit her like a feint in fencing, she faltered, just for a heartbeat.
And in that heartbeat, Asvara reached the freight car nearest the gate.
The gate.
They hadn't even noticed it forming.
Violet light shimmered faintly between the gaps in reality, warping the snowflakes that drifted into its pull.
Asvara stopped, the Senso no Uta materializing in his hand in a shimmer of steel and violet aura.
"Do you know," he said softly, "why they call it The Immortal Game?"
Roseley froze mid-step, her Hourglass pulsing like a living heart.
Even the Bishop hesitated.
Asvara: "It's not because it was flawless. It's because one man saw the entire board… and sacrificed everything to checkmate."
He turned his head slightly toward Riven."Time's up."
Riven's Hourglass flared gold.
Roseley's turned crimson.
And in that clash of opposing currents, the air split.
Kenji's shout was lost in the surge of energy.
Lyra shielded her face from the light.
The Bishop crumbled to ash.
And in the middle of the maelstrom — Asvara vanished.
The last thing they saw before the light consumed the yard was him, mid-step toward the gate, Senso no Uta raised but not to strike Roseley, not to close the gate… but to step through.
And the courtyard they were in had now turned directly into Eldrose's domain.