*The National Museum*
The quiet night is disturbed along the hallways of the museum as two teenagers stroll through the empty building.
"Klara, why did you bring me here this late at night? It's way past closing time," Brion asks.
"I had something I wanted you to see," Klara replies.
"How did you even get permission for us to be here at this time?" Brion asks, glancing at her.
"I just pleaded with my father to let us stay for a few minutes," she says. "He's on the night shift."
Klara pulls Brion through a large archway into an expansive room crowned by a glass dome. Moonlight pours through the ceiling, casting pale beams across the floor. Brion stops short, awestruck.
They were standing in the space rock exhibition.
Brion had always been a space fanatic. Countless hours had been spent researching the vast expanse beyond Earth. He had never planned to visit the museum, yet simply being here filled him with quiet joy.
"Happy birthday, Brion!" Klara announces.
"Isn't that tomorrow?" he asks.
Klara points at the large wall clock. A few minutes had passed since midnight.
"You planned this very well," Brion says, smiling.
They had been friends since childhood; neither ever forgot the other's birthday.
A particular ray of moonlight falls upon an irregularly shaped rock mounted near the center of the room—roughly two meters across and a meter tall. Brion notices a faint white glow pulsing from its surface. The air around it slowly begins to warm.
Drawn closer, Brion steps toward the rock. As he does, the pendant hanging around his neck begins to emit the same pale white glow.
"Klara, do you see this?" he asks, unease creeping into his voice.
"What?" Klara replies as she steps beside him. Seeing nothing unusual, she frowns. "You're not playing games again, are you?"
After a moment's thought, Brion removes the pendant and places it into Klara's hand. She hesitates—but the instant her fingers close around it, her vision shifts. A faint glow blooms where there had been none.
"I see it," she whispers.
Still holding Klara's hand, Brion reaches toward the glowing rock. The moment his fingers make contact, energy surges through him—flowing from the rock, through his body, and into the pendant. A connection forms, and the transfer accelerates.
White rings of light appear on Brion's left hand, expanding outward and reshaping themselves into glowing runes. Seeing the energy build dangerously, Klara presses her free hand against the rock, attempting to redirect it. The current reverses—flowing from the pendant, through Klara, and back into the stone.
White rings form on Klara's left hand as well, unfolding rapidly into runes. The markings spread across both of their bodies, racing along skin and clothing alike—first engulfing Brion, then Klara.
Suddenly, the runes etched across Brion's head and left hand flare red.
The pale glow intensifies, swelling until it engulfs them completely.
Then—darkness.
When Brion opens his eyes, night turns to day in the blink of an eye—again and again. Mountains crumble into dust, only to reform into towering peaks. Ruins rise into grand, unfamiliar structures, their architecture unlike anything built by ancient civilizations on Earth.
Time is reversing before his eyes.
A single, urgent thought pierces through the chaos:
Where's Kla—
His vision fades, and Brion slips into unconsciousness.