Isaac's steps were slow and deliberate as he and Kronos left the Rift behind. His body ached from the hours spent guiding time's tangled threads back into place, each muscle protesting from the strain. But even in the exhaustion, there was something strange—his body felt... different. The aches were there, but there was also a deeper sense of energy, as if something within him was holding his body together, pushing him to keep moving when he should have collapsed long ago.
Ahead of him, Kronos walked with his usual calm. Isaac could tell his mentor wasn't oblivious to the physical and emotional toll the test had taken on him. But, as usual, Kronos waited for Isaac to reflect on things before speaking. Yet today, Isaac's mind was full of questions—about his body and, after what Kronos had said, his future.
I hadn't felt this kind of exhaustion in a long time. Every muscle in my body burned from the effort it took to fix the Rift. But there was something else beneath the pain—something I couldn't quite explain. It was like... energy, but not the kind I was used to. It felt more like time itself was keeping me going, like I was being sustained by something far beyond what I understood.
And then there was the other thing—the way I hadn't eaten in days, maybe even weeks. I couldn't remember the last time I'd felt real hunger. And sleep? That was starting to feel like something distant, something I barely needed.
"Kronos," I said, breaking the silence. "What's happening to me? My body... it's different. I haven't needed to eat or sleep like I used to. And even though I'm in pain, it's like my body is holding up in ways it shouldn't."
Kronos stopped, turning to face Isaac with a knowing expression. He had expected this question sooner or later. "Your body is changing, Isaac. When you became the Guardian of Time, your connection to time itself began to reshape you. Time sustains you now. The needs you once had as a mortal—hunger, sleep, even pain—will gradually fade."
Isaac's eyes widened slightly, trying to process what Kronos was saying. "So, I won't need to eat or sleep anymore?"
"Not right away," Kronos explained. "For now, those needs will still exist, but they will lessen. As you grow stronger in your role, you'll find that food and rest will no longer be essential to your survival. Time will sustain you, just as it does me."
Isaac nodded slowly, trying to make sense of it all. "And the pain? I still feel it now, but will that disappear too?"
I looked down at my hands, flexing my fingers. They still ached from the effort of pulling at the threads of time in the Rift. The pain was there, but something told me that it wouldn't last.
Kronos's voice was calm, steady. "In time, your body will no longer suffer the way it does now. The pain you feel is a remnant of the human body you once had. But as your connection to time deepens, that too will fade."
I wasn't sure how to feel about that. Part of me liked the idea of never feeling pain again. But another part of me—the part that still clung to the life I'd had before all this—felt uneasy. What was I becoming?
"And my emotions?" I asked, the question slipping out before I had fully thought it through. "Will they fade too?"
Kronos's gaze softened, and there was a pause before he answered. "Not immediately. But as time passes—centuries, even millennia—you will find that your emotions, particularly toward those you do not know, will begin to lessen."
Isaac frowned, not sure what to make of that. "What do you mean?"
Kronos continued, his voice filled with a weight of wisdom. "You are still new to this role, Isaac. But as you grow, as you begin to see the world from the perspective of time itself, the emotions you feel for strangers will begin to fade. It is a natural part of your evolution. You will live far beyond the lifespan of any mortal, and the weight of caring for every life that passes by would be unbearable."
Isaac's chest tightened at the thought. He hadn't even begun to feel that detachment yet—if anything, he still cared as much as he always had. But the idea that one day he might not care as much... It was unsettling.
The thought of losing my emotions for people—strangers, mostly—made me uneasy. I couldn't imagine not caring about the lives around me, not wanting to help them when they needed it. But I trusted Kronos, and he seemed to know what he was talking about. He had lived through this. Maybe it was inevitable.
"But I'll still care about the people I love, right?" I asked, my voice quieter than I intended. "The people close to me?"
"Yes," Kronos said, his tone reassuring. "Your love for those who are close to you will remain. Those bonds will deepen over time. But as the centuries pass, you will find that your emotions for those who are fleeting—those who pass through time quickly—will fade. It is a burden you will no longer have to carry."
I nodded, feeling a small sense of relief. I could still care for the people who mattered. But still... the idea that my emotions would change, even gradually, left a hollow feeling inside me.
As Isaac and Kronos continued their walk toward the dense forest ahead, Isaac's thoughts lingered on what Kronos had said. The knowledge that his emotions toward strangers would fade over time was unsettling, but he trusted Kronos's wisdom. For now, he still felt like himself. His emotions, his connections—they were still there, strong as ever.
Kronos led the way toward the twisting trees of the forest, where the air seemed to ripple and bend around them. Isaac could feel it—the subtle warping of time and space, stretching and compressing in ways that defied logic.
"This forest will challenge you in ways the Rift did not," Kronos said, his eyes scanning the horizon. "Here, time and space bend together. You will need to learn to guide both."
Isaac nodded, pushing his thoughts of emotional detachment aside. That was something for the distant future. For now, he had more immediate challenges to face.
I looked up at the forest ahead, the trees warping and twisting in ways that didn't make sense. Time and space were bending together here, pulling at the edges of reality. I could feel it in the air—chaotic, yet familiar.
This was the next test. And even though I still had questions about what I was becoming, about how much I was changing, I pushed them aside. There would be time for that later. Right now, I had to focus.
The forest was waiting.
End of Chapter