The Cindralith Grand Library wasn't built for comfort. It was built for control.
White marble columns rose like spears toward the skylight dome, each inscribed with the Eternal Order's motto in a hundred languages:
"Through Knowledge, Order."
Rei had walked through these halls before in his old life—once, nervously, as a lowly city worker sent to clean the archives' lower floors. He'd been too afraid to even look at the shelves then, surrounded by a silence that felt holy.
Now, he moved like a thief. Because that's what he was.
The Order's librarians, called Curators, glided silently through the aisles, their robes threaded with silver sigils that pulsed faintly with Veir energy. They didn't speak. Didn't look up. Their eyes were on their tablets, cataloging, erasing, rewriting.
Rei moved past them, head lowered, his own tablet tucked under his arm, a forgery Darius had helped him craft from salvaged components. It replicated an official researcher's clearance tag just long enough to open the lower vault elevators.
As the lift descended, he exhaled slowly.
"Alright. No guards. No alarms. Just answers."
The doors opened to a cold, dim corridor lined with black shelves, thousands of them. The Restricted Knowledge Wing.
The place smelled of dust, copper, and ozone. Veir runes flickered along the walls, like faint blue veins keeping the archive alive.
He started with what he knew: Ashborne records.He searched birth registries, land ownership deeds, city maps.
Nothing. The surname Ashborne didn't exist anywhere before 435 A.R., and ended abruptly after 442.
"An entire bloodline erased from history. Too clean. Too perfect."
Then he searched the Order's historical section "Notable Incidents in Temporal Phenomena."
That was when he found it.
A plain, unmarked file buried under false headers. The title:
"Temporal Breach: Cindralith West Incident (Classified Level 3)"Date:September 7 , 442 A.R .Casualties: 4 confirmed fatalities.*Residual Veir signatures detected: Chrono-type anomaly.
Rei's breath caught.
442 A.R. The year his family died. Chrono-type. A time distortion.
He opened the file, but half the data was redacted. Entire sections replaced by static. The only readable entry was a single paragraph:
"The anomaly originated from a civilian residence near the western grid. Containment protocols executed by the Order's Prototype Division. Resultant distortion radius: 0.47 kilometers. Residual energy stable but non-decaying. All survivors relocated under Program Solace."
"Program Solace…" Rei whispered. The name sent chills down his spine.
He tapped the link to open the appendix, and froze.
ACCESS DENIED. LEVEL 1 CLEARANCE REQUIRED.
"Damn it"
He slammed the terminal shut, heart pounding. If he forced it, he'd trigger security locks and lose everything.
So he switched tactics. Veir Abilities: Chrono-type anomalies.
The next search opened dozens of scattered records, some written in languages so old they predated the current calendar. He scrolled until one phrase appeared repeatedly, highlighted by the system's auto-translation:
"Chrono Veir: The power to perceive and alter temporal flow." Known Manifestations: Time Echoes, Predictive Loops, Temporal Sync. Known Bearers: [REDACTED]. Theoretical Limit: Reality fracture if dual perception (past/future) sustained longer than 24 hours.*
His pulse quickened.
Dual perception. Past and future at once.That's me. That's exactly what I'm doing.
But there was something else. A handwritten note embedded in the text—left by a researcher long dead, judging by the ink degradation.
"Chrono Veir is not a gift. It is a fracture. A soul divided across timelines. Each awakening erases one version and overwrites another. Only a stabilized Anchor can survive multiple loops."
Rei stared at the words, every hair on his arm rising.
A soul divided across timelines .Anchor stabilization.
That's why Cipher, or Darius, said I wasn't just remembering. I was living both timelines at once.
And if this was true…Every time he changed something here, the other version of himself, the one in the future, was fracturing more.
He leaned back against the desk, gripping the edge until his knuckles whitened."Then I'm running out of time."