"Are you the Keeper of Time?" Amelia asked, her voice shaking slightly.
"I am," the Keeper replied, its tone layered, as though a thousand voices spoke in unison. "And you, Amelia, are the cause of this chaos."
Amelia stiffened. "What do you mean?"
The Keeper gestured with a flowing hand, and the air between them wove itself into a tapestry of glowing threads. Images flickered within—a young Amelia saving Thomas from his fate in the 18th century, their escape, and the moment the timeline fractured.
"When you saved him, you pulled a thread that was never meant to be touched," the Keeper explained. "That action created an imbalance in the tapestry of time. Amalina was born of that imbalance—a replacement thread to hold the structure together."
Amelia's breath caught. "You're saying Amalina exists because of me?"
"Because of both of you," the Keeper clarified, its shifting gaze falling on Thomas. "She was vital to maintaining balance, but her presence has grown unstable. The cracks in the timeline are spreading, and if left unchecked, all of reality will collapse."
Thomas stepped forward, anger tightening his jaw. "Why didn't you warn us? If you knew this would happen, why not intervene?"
The Keeper's tone remained calm, almost detached. "The tapestry of time is not for me to alter. I am its guardian, not its master. Your choices are your own. I merely ensure that the threads remain intact."
Thomas shook his head. "That's not good enough. If we're responsible for this, tell us how to fix it."
The Keeper's form flickered, the threads around it dimming. "The solution is not without sacrifice. Amalina must be removed from the timeline. Only then will the balance be restored."
Amelia recoiled. "Removed? You mean erased? No! She's a person, not some… thread to be cut."
"She is both," the Keeper said, its voice softening. "Her existence is tied to the very fabric of time. If she remains, she will unravel it."
---
The Keeper stepped closer to Thomas, its face briefly taking on the appearance of a man Thomas recognized—a shadowy figure he'd once encountered during his own travels.
"You, Thomas, have known the fragility of time," the Keeper said. "Do not let sentiment blind you to its importance."
Thomas clenched his fists but said nothing, his mind racing with questions.
Amelia, meanwhile, began to notice small cracks forming in the ground beneath her feet. She stepped back instinctively. "What's happening?"
"The timeline is weakening," the Keeper warned. "Amalina's presence accelerates its collapse. You must act swiftly."
---
The Keeper's form grew brighter, its voice echoing with finality.
"Decide quickly, Amelia. Every moment you hesitate, reality edges closer to destruction. Amalina's fate is tied to the survival of all that you hold dear."
Amelia looked at Thomas, her eyes filled with anguish. "There has to be another way," she whispered.
But as the cracks in the realm widened, swallowing fragments of light, the Keeper's words loomed over them like a storm.
"Time waits for no one."
---
"Every choice is a thread in the fabric of existence. Pull one, and the entire tapestry may unravel."
The Keeper's words echoed in Amelia's mind as she and Thomas stood before the ethereal figure in its shimmering realm. Time here seemed suspended—no beginning, no end—only a swirling expanse of light and shadow. The Keeper, neither fully human nor wholly alien, radiated an unsettling aura of omniscience.
Amelia clenched her fists. "You're saying Amalina only exists because I saved Thomas? That she's some... replacement thread?"
The Keeper tilted its head, its voice calm yet piercing. "Precisely. When you altered the past, you disrupted a pivotal thread in the timeline's tapestry. Amalina was created to stabilize the imbalance, but her presence is not without consequences."
Thomas took a step forward, his jaw tight. "What kind of consequences?"
The Keeper extended a hand, and before them appeared a vision—a glowing web of threads, each representing a choice made across time. Some threads pulsed brightly, while others frayed and sparked with chaotic energy.
"Reality itself is fracturing," the Keeper said. "The longer Amalina exists, the greater the strain on the tapestry. The cracks you've noticed—time loops, shifting memories, anomalies—are symptoms of this instability."
Amelia's breath hitched. She glanced at Thomas, whose face was pale, his lips pressed into a thin line.
"So, what's the solution?" she asked, though she already feared the answer.
The Keeper's gaze bore into her. "You must remove the replacement thread. Amalina must be erased."
---
Amelia's voice trembled. "Erase her? You're asking me to kill someone—someone who's innocent in all this!"
Thomas placed a hand on her shoulder, his grip firm but gentle. "Amelia, we don't even know what 'erasing' means. Is it... death? Or does she just vanish?"
The Keeper's tone remained unyielding. "Erasure is a return to the natural order. Amalina will cease to exist, as if she were never created."
Amelia shook her head violently. "No. That's not fair. Amalina didn't ask to be born into this mess. She's a person, with feelings, memories—she's my sister!"
"She is not," the Keeper corrected. "She is a construct of the disrupted timeline. Her memories, her existence, are fabrications designed to fill the void left by your actions."
Thomas frowned. "If we don't erase her, what happens?"
The vision shifted, showing threads snapping and entire sections of the tapestry unraveling into darkness.
The Keeper's voice deepened. "Reality collapses. All threads—past, present, and future—will disintegrate."
---
Amelia turned away, her chest tightening as the enormity of the situation sank in. She pressed her palms against her temples, trying to block out the Keeper's words.
"Amelia," Thomas began softly, "I know this is hard, but we have to think about what's at stake. If the timeline collapses..."
She spun around, eyes blazing. "You think I don't know that? But how am I supposed to make this choice? How can I just... erase someone?!"
Thomas hesitated, then said, "You made a choice to save me. And that choice came with consequences. Maybe it's time to—"
"Don't," she snapped, her voice breaking. "Don't you dare tell me to undo this."
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I'm not saying it's easy, Amelia. I'm saying we need to think about everyone else who could be affected. This isn't just about us."
—
As Amelia paced, Thomas stole a glance at the glowing tapestry. Deep down, a fear clawed at him—a fear he couldn't share with Amelia.
If Amalina's thread was erased, would it pull others with it? Threads connected in ways even the Keeper couldn't fully predict. If his existence was tied to Amalina's, what would happen to him?
He clenched his fists, forcing the thought away. He had to focus on Amelia. She was the one who had to make the call.