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**Chapter 1: The Rift of Fate**
It can't be.
It can't be.
It can't be.
The words loop in my mind, a broken record scratching at the edges of my sanity. Each repetition feels emptier, colder, like the hollow clang of a sword against stone. I'm kneeling in the dirt, my hands trembling as they clutch at the ground, nails scraping against the jagged rubble of what used to be Arcadia Oaks. The air smells of ash and iron, thick with the residue of magic and war. My chest aches, not from wounds—though I have plenty—but from something deeper, something I can't name.
Toby is gone.
His hand, the one that always gripped his warhammer with unshakable resolve, now lies limp in the dust. I can still see it, pale and still, half-buried under debris. The light in his eyes—that spark that never dimmed, not even when we faced Titans or ancient gods—is extinguished. Forever. I keep waiting for him to sit up, to flash that goofy grin and say something ridiculous like, "Well, that was a wild ride, Jimbo!" But he doesn't. He won't. Not ever again.
The air feels heavy, almost solid, as if the world itself is holding its breath. Time slows, stretching each moment into an eternity of grief. Around me, the ruins of Arcadia Oaks stretch out like a graveyard. Overturned cars lie scattered like discarded toys, their metal frames twisted and scorched. Buildings that once stood proud—our school, the diner, the bookstore—are reduced to piles of dust and broken dreams. The sky above is a sickly gray, streaked with the fading remnants of arcane energy, a reminder of the battle we just fought. And won.
We won.
We stopped the Arcane Order.
We saved the world.
But at what cost?
I lost Strickler, the man who showed me that redemption was possible, that even a changeling could choose to be more than his past. I lost Nomura, who threw herself into the fray without a second thought, her blades flashing until the very end. And now… Toby. My best friend. The one who stood by me through every impossible fight, who laughed in the face of danger, who believed in me even when I doubted myself. He was the heart of our team, the glue that held us together. And now he's gone.
Is this winning?
A bitter laugh escapes my lips, raw and jagged. No. This isn't victory. It's a curse.
Claire is beside me, her hand gripping mine so tightly it hurts. Her fingers dig into my skin, as if she's trying to anchor me to this broken reality, to keep me from slipping away into the void of my own grief. Her sobs are quiet but relentless, blending with the wind that carries the scent of smoke and sorrow. Her dark hair is matted with dust, her face streaked with tears and grime. She's still beautiful, even now, but the spark in her eyes is dimmed, replaced by a haunted emptiness. I want to say something to comfort her, to tell her it'll be okay, but the words stick in my throat. How can I lie to her when I don't believe it myself?
I have no words.
No strength.
No purpose.
The silence around us is deafening, broken only by the occasional clatter of debris shifting in the wind. In the distance, AAARRRGGHH roars, his massive fists pounding the remains of a car into scrap. Each blow reverberates through the ground, a primal scream of pain and rage. His mossy fur is streaked with soot, his eyes wild with grief. Blinky is there, trying to calm him, his six eyes clouded with tears. Even Blinky—our eternal optimist, the one who always found a lesson in every disaster—looks broken. His shoulders slump, his voice a mere whisper as he murmurs something I can't hear. I don't need to. I know what he's feeling. We all do.
Farther off, Douxie stands alone amidst the rubble, his silhouette stark against the dying light. His staff lies forgotten at his feet, its once-vibrant runes now dull. His long coat is torn, his hair disheveled, but it's his expression that cuts me deepest. He stares into the void, his eyes distant, as if he's seeing something beyond the ruins. When he finally speaks, his voice is so old, so weary, it sends a shiver down my spine.
"Everyone knows now," he murmurs, almost to himself. "Everyone knows about the arcane world. Trolls, wizards, Akiridions… there are no more secrets. No one is safe."
His words hit me like a blade. He's right. The veil that hid our world—trolls lurking beneath the streets, wizards weaving spells in the shadows, aliens blending into human society—is gone. Shattered. The Arcane Order's final act wasn't just destruction; it was exposure. The world saw everything: the Titans, the magic, the monsters. News helicopters had circled above as we fought, broadcasting our secrets to every screen on the planet. There's no going back now. The world has changed, and we're standing on the edge of something new—something terrifying.
I'm tired. So tired.
My body aches, my armor weighs heavy on my shoulders, but it's my heart that feels like it's about to break. Sometimes I wonder if I'm still me. If there's anything left of Jim Lake Jr. beneath the steel, the stone, and the scars.The Trollhunter's amulet has made me strong, but it's also taken so much. My childhood. My normal life. My friends. Iwant to give up, to drop the amulet and walk away, to forget the weight of being a hero. But even as the thought crosses my mind, guilt surges through me. Toby wouldn't give up. Neither would Strickler, Draal or Nomura. They fought until the end. How can I do any less?
And then… her voice echoes in my mind, faint but clear, like a whisper from another world.
Nari.
"Time unfolds like a flower. The Trollhunter will remember. Make the ninth configuration. The Krohnisfere will fix everything."
My eyes snap open, my breath catching in my throat. The Krohnisfere. Nari's words, spoken in her final moments, flood back to me. I'd almost forgotten, buried under the weight of grief and exhaustion. The Krohnisfere—a relic of ancient magic, a device capable of bending time itself. Could it really be the answer? Could it undo this nightmare?
"Jim?" Claire's voice is soft, trembling, her eyes searching mine. "What is it?"
"The Krohnisfere," I say, my voice hoarse but certain. I don't wait for her response. I'm already moving, my legs carrying me through the rubble, my heart pounding with a spark of hope I thought was lost.
The others turn to watch me, confusion etched on their faces. AAARRRGGHH pauses mid-strike, his massive fists hovering over the wreckage. Blinky's eyes narrow, a flicker of curiosity breaking through his sorrow. Douxie takes a step forward, his staff still lying forgotten in the dust.
I weave through the ruins, my boots crunching against shattered glass and twisted metal. The air grows colder as I approach the heart of the battlefield, where the Arcane Order made their final stand. And there it is: the Krohnisfere. Or what's left of it. Its casing is warped, scorched by the energies unleashed in the fight, but inside, a faint green light pulses, like a heartbeat. Alive. Waiting.
I drop to my knees, my bloodied hands trembling as I reach for it. The Time Stone glows softly, its surface warm to the touch, almost… alive. I feel it watching me, sensing my desperation, my desire to make things right. My fingers close around it, and for a moment, I swear I hear Nari's voice again, whispering words I can't quite catch.
Claire kneels beside me, her hand resting on my shoulder. "Jim… what are you doing?"
"I'm going to fix it," I say, my voice shaking but resolute. "I'm going to bring them back. Toby, Strickler, Nomura… all of them."
Her eyes widen, a mix of hope and fear. "The Krohnisfere… can it do that?"
"I don't know," I admit, my gaze fixed on the stone. "But I have to try."
I pull the Trollhunter's amulet from my chest, its familiar weight both a comfort and a burden. The runes glow faintly, as if sensing what I'm about to do. I try to fit the Time Stone into the amulet's center, where the heart of its power lies. But it doesn't fit. The stone is too large, the amulet's socket too small. My heart sinks, panic clawing at my chest.
*No… it can't be…* I whisper, desperation tightening my throat. I try again, pressing harder, willing the stone to merge with the amulet. Nothing.
"Jim, stop!" Douxie's voice cuts through the air, sharp and urgent. He's running toward me now, his coat flapping in the wind. "You don't know what you're doing! The Krohnisfere's magic is unstable—tampering with it could—"
But I don't listen. I can't. The grief, the guilt, the need to fix this—it's all too much. I strike the amulet with the stone, once, twice, three times, each blow harder than the last. Sparks fly, green and blue light clashing in a chaotic dance.
"Jim, please!" Claire grabs my arm, her voice breaking. "You're going to—"
It's too late.
An explosion of light erupts from the amulet, blinding and deafening. The ground shakes, the air itself trembling as reality fractures. A rift tears open in the sky—a glowing wound that splits the heavens apart. Thousands of fragments shimmer in the air, each one a window to another world, another time. In some of them I see us, in some there are just strangers. I see glimpses of moments that never happened: Toby laughing, Strickler teaching, Nomura fighting by my side. I see other Jims, other Claires, other lives we might have lived.
The light surges toward us, a tidal wave of energy that swallows everything. Claire's hand slips from mine. Douxie's shout is drowned out. The world dissolves into a kaleidoscope of colors and shadows.
And then… nothing.