"What do you mean, Lenard?" Finn asked, his voice filled with concern.
Lenard took a big swig of the wine before answering. The rest of the group gazed upon him with anticipation, and he slowly ran his hand through his hair, his eyes fixed on Timothy.
Lenard described everything he had just seen to the rest of his group, and they attentively listened to every detail without any disturbances.
A contemplative hush settled as Finn, the architect of strategic thoughts, held his silence. Finally breaking the quiet, he asked a question that echoed through the room, "How could such a reality unfold? Unless... an unseen hand, mortal or divine, dared to tamper with the fabric of time itself. But time, as we know, is an elusive force, impervious to even the mightiest of gods." Finn's question ended up being rhetorical.
Lenard's eyes were still on Timothy, who kept stirring in his sleep, but he knew better than to wake him. Finn is right. How can all of this be possible? But most importantly... where did the shadows come from, and where did that bloody knight go after the massacre? Wait, I did not see the corpses of Baichun and Romano; even the prince's body was not there, which means that this whole thing was planned from the start. And now we have to come up with a way to prevent our deaths.... I cannot die, not yet at least. Lenard silently thought to himself.
In the midst of the collective mental harmony of strange minds, Timothy found himself standing in a realm that felt familiar. However, a subtle detail revealed itself – an uninvited companion sharing the space, casting shadows on the solitude he once knew. Standing in front of the colossal staircase within the void, Timothy's eyes were fixated on the person in front of him. His eyes bore a strange calmness despite looking at an exact copy of himself, albeit with slight differences like the hair and eyes. This was the being Lenard had met inside Timothy's consciousness, that he had assumed was the physical manifestation of Timothy's consciousness, albeit twisted. Their gazes were locked, and eventually, the being in front of Timothy smiled. "We finally meet, at last," it spoke with a smile.
Timothy shook his head slowly, his stoic countenance revealing no trace of emotion, like a marble sculpture standing in the face of changing tides. "And who might you be?" he asked.
Suddenly, it stopped smiling and coldly glared at Timothy. "Can you not see that I am you? Or have you turned blind?" It asked, its voice filled with disgust.
Timothy shook his head and chuckled for the first time in a while. "You are certainly not me. In fact, judging from what I've seen so far, you are the direct opposite of me. So I will ask you one more time, who are you?" At that, Timothy's aura began leaking out purposely as a means to scare the being in front of him, but his actions were met with laughter.
"What are you doing? That aura is not even close enough to scare a wild beast. Anyways, I did tell you who I am, but I guess that is not enough for you, huh? I am you, Mí'tûr, the other half of you. I only managed to awaken because by using chronostasis, you exhausted all your breath. Your soul was empty and devoid of any breath when I awakened, that is why I gave you mine and also helped you nourish your seed. By the time you return to reality, you will break through to the next stage, all thanks to yours truly." It pointed at itself with a smirk.
Timothy was quiet the whole time, but then he smiled wryly, staring at 'his other half'. "You said my soul instead of our soul, but yet you say you are the other half of me. Really now? And what the hell did you mean by awaken? And lastly, what the hell is chronostasis?" Timothy asked, his eyes staring directly at his 'other half'.
The other half facepalmed, murmuring something inaudible to Timothy. "You are pretty dense for someone that has been praised as one of the smartest beings in all of the planes. Anyways, I did say that your soul, and I also did say that I am your other half. So tell me, Mí'tûr, what could I possibly mean?" It asked.
Timothy pondered for a while before his eyes widened in surprise at a realization. "Other half of my soul? You mean that my soul is not whole? But how could that be, how is that possi... Lilith has half a soul, but that is only possible because of her hybrid nature. I am certainly not a hybrid, so how?" Timothy glanced at his 'other half' in question.
"Beats me? I too am not too sure about it either, but one thing I know is that I was not supposed to awaken this early in your life. That is why most of my memories are locked, and I only have a few glimpses of them. But even that is not enough to understand my—our purpose. But I do know what this place is, so you can stop calling it the void. This here is your—our sealed dimension crafted from a piece of our soul. We called it 'The Home of Secrets.' Yes, I know it's a pretty uncool name if you ask me, but hey, what would you call this place since it is a home of many secrets and it's located in our soul. But since we are not whole yet, this is the only part that is accessible to you. And as for me, I have the other half of it, but I cannot access it yet." He explained.
Timothy could only nod, but then he noticed that 'his other half' seemed to be avoiding the question about chronostasis. But then he knew that he would surely not get an answer, so he let it go and asked, "So can you not go back to your slumber or whatever it is because I cannot have you invading my privacy? Plus, it's creepy to have another presence in my head besides myself and my two bonds. I mean, isn't there a way we can get you sleeping again?" Timothy asked, with a raised brow, earning himself a piercing glare. "What do you mean, your privacy dimwit? It is our privacy. And no, I don't know how to get back to my peaceful slumber. But for now, you are stuck with me, dimwit." He folded his arms after speaking, and Timothy, in a moment of shared understanding with his other half, released a sigh that hung in the air like a fragile alliance, acknowledging the complexities of their newfound connection.
"So what do I call you?" He asked.
"Stephen, Stephen Bellanour." The answer was so quick it startled Timothy a bit, but mostly he felt fear, fear that everything might not be as it seems. Deciding not to think about it, he extended his hand to Stephen with a smile. "I'm Timothy, pleased to meet you. I hope we can try to get along for the sake of my sanity." Stephen's grip, firm yet tinged with an unsettling coolness, met Timothy's hand. As they exchanged names, Stephen's whispered words lingered in the air, 'I doubt it,' a subtle echo of skepticism that hung between them.
Stephen moved to stand beside Timothy, and that is when he noticed it—the rune on the first step was emitting a faint purple light. Timothy and Stephen both looked at each other before nodding, and then they took a step forward, disappearing from "The Home of Secrets."
Various scents overwhelmed Timothy's senses – the earthy smell of trees mixed with the metallic scent of blood and the strong odor of mud, forming a confusing mix of smells. His head was pounding viciously, and his senses were haywire. The sounds around him all indicated that he was in the middle of a battle. Gradually collecting his senses, he scanned the chaotic surroundings, revealing a grim realization—they stood amidst a battlefield. Bolts of laser energy streaked through the air, creating an otherworldly spectacle, while the relentless clash of steel echoed in every direction, forming a symphony of war. Timothy's comeback, though long anticipated, happened at a challenging time, as if fate had planned for him to return during one of the most chaotic periods in Concilia's history. The ground beneath him was damp, not from a recent rainfall, but saturated with the crimson hue of spilled blood, amplifying the grim reality of the battleground.