The sun barely crept through the cracks in the dusty blinds of Elior's apartment the next morning. He awoke with a jolt, his body heavy with the remnants of a dream that left him unsettled. He rubbed his eyes, trying to push away the lingering sense of unease. His breath was still shallow, his heartbeat erratic from the vividness of the dream.
Sitting up, he glanced around his small, dimly lit room. The faded wallpaper curled at the edges, the floorboards creaked with the weight of time. Everything felt as it always had—worn, tired, and lifeless. Yet, something had shifted.
Elior reached for his phone, half-expecting the usual barrage of news updates or ignored messages from people he barely knew. His fingers brushed against the screen, but as soon as he unlocked it, a message appeared—a strange, cryptic notification that sent a cold shiver down his spine:
"You've been chosen. The Chrono Protocol has activated. Prepare to begin your journey."
Elior blinked, his fingers still hovering over the screen. The words stared back at him, incomprehensible yet oddly familiar, as if they were meant for him. His heart skipped a beat, but before he could react, the message vanished, leaving only a faint trace on the screen, like a lingering shadow that refused to be erased.
He stared at the blank screen for a long moment, his mind racing. A glitch, he thought. Maybe just some weird app malfunction. Or perhaps a prank. But deep down, something gnawed at him, a quiet whisper that told him this wasn't just a random fluke. He tried to shake off the feeling, though, and moved on, convincing himself it was nothing more than his imagination.
---
The rest of the day passed in a haze of routine. Elior worked in the repair shop, his hands methodically fixing the broken clocks and gadgets that had been brought in for repairs. Time felt almost like a distant concept as he worked—he had long since learned to ignore the way the minutes seemed to slip away unnoticed in this city, a place where time itself felt fractured. But still, there was something off today. The air felt thicker, as if the world itself was holding its breath.
That night, as Elior lay in his bed, the unsettling sense from the morning returned. The same sense of something waiting to break free.
And then, just as he began to drift into sleep, it happened again. The dream.
---
He stood in a vast, empty void, the space around him pitch black and formless. Before him, suspended in the endless dark, was a colossal clock. Its face was a tangled mess of gears, the hands spinning erratically, grinding and twisting in directions that defied logic. The sound of the gears turning echoed in his mind, overwhelming his senses with an eerie rhythm.
A voice, deep and resonant, suddenly filled the void.
"The world is on the edge of collapse. Only those who master time will save it."
The voice paused, as if waiting for Elior to comprehend its words. The weight of its meaning hung in the air, suffocating him. Then the voice spoke again, its tone ominous.
"Your journey begins now, Elior."
Before Elior could react, the clock's hands began to spin backward, the gears twisting in impossible directions. His body jerked violently, as though being sucked into the heart of the clock. Time itself seemed to fragment around him, breaking apart in jagged shards as an overwhelming vortex of light and sound engulfed him. His mind screamed for control, but it was futile. He felt himself being pulled—no, torn—through the fabric of time, his body twisting through moments that didn't make sense.
His skin burned, his bones felt as if they were being rearranged, and the world around him flickered between different points in time. He saw flashes of his past, his present, and what felt like possible futures, all blending into one dizzying blur. He tried to scream, but no sound came.
Then, just as suddenly as it began, everything snapped back into darkness.
---
Elior woke with a sharp gasp, his heart hammering in his chest. His breathing was erratic, his skin slick with sweat. He sat up quickly, the remnants of the dream still clinging to him like a weight. He looked around, his apartment unchanged, silent—except for the pounding of his own heart.
It had been just a dream. But something about it didn't feel like a mere nightmare. It felt… real.
Shaken, Elior tried to ignore the growing sense of dread and confusion. He forced himself to focus on the routine, on the tasks of the day ahead. But even as he made his way to the shop, the weight of the dream hung over him, his mind replaying the ominous words again and again: Your journey begins now.
---
The day passed without much incident, but something was different. Elior couldn't put his finger on it, but his surroundings seemed... off. Time felt strange, and even the shop, with its familiar clutter, seemed to hold an unsettling stillness. He tried to push the thoughts away, but they lingered, gnawing at the edges of his consciousness.
It wasn't until mid-afternoon that it happened.
Elior was working on a broken clock, the gears heavy in his hands as he tried to make the delicate adjustments. His fingers brushed against the cool metal, and for a brief moment, everything stopped.
The world around him froze.
The sound of the city outside, the movement of the people walking by, even the gentle hum of the shop—it all came to a halt. It was as if time itself had paused. Elior blinked, unsure of what he was seeing. The gears inside the clock stopped spinning, frozen mid-turn. A pedestrian, caught mid-step, was suspended in the air, their foot hovering just above the ground. A car outside sat motionless, its wheels caught in mid-roll.
Elior stood frozen in disbelief, his heart pounding in his chest. His fingers hovered over the clock, still touching the broken device. He wasn't sure what was happening—was this another glitch? A trick of his mind?
He tried to move, but it was impossible. He was the only one moving.
Panicked, he quickly pulled his hand away from the clock. Everything snapped back into motion. The sounds returned, the pedestrians resumed their steps, the car continued down the street as if nothing had happened. There was no trace of the event, no sign that time had ever stopped.
Elior's breath came out in ragged gasps, his mind racing. What was that? Was it real? His heart pounded in his chest as the realization hit him—he had done it.
He had stopped time.
Before he could process what had happened, a message suddenly flashed above his head:
"Chrono Protocol activated."
The text lingered for a moment before fading, leaving behind a new notification:
"Welcome, Elior, to the system. You will now receive quests, challenges, and growth opportunities. Your first task is simple: learn to control your power."
The message continued, showing him his stats, abilities, and a list of challenges—most of which were confusing and unfamiliar. There was a warning as well, a subtle one: "Time manipulation comes with great cost. Proceed carefully."
Elior stood frozen, his mind reeling. He had no idea what was happening, but one thing was clear—his life was no longer ordinary.
---
It was at that moment, as he stumbled to process the enormity of what he had just experienced, that she appeared.
A woman, about his age, walked into the shop. She was calm, composed, her eyes sharp and observant. She didn't seem at all surprised to see him standing there, grappling with the weight of his newfound abilities. Her dark hair was neatly tied back, and her clothes, though simple, were well-worn—like someone who had seen more than their fair share of the world.
"Elior," she said, her voice smooth, yet carrying an undeniable weight of authority. "You've awakened."
He stared at her, confused. "Who—who are you?"
She tilted her head, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "My name is Ariana. And I've been waiting for you."
Before Elior could ask more, she stepped forward, her gaze never leaving his. "The power you've been given is both a gift and a curse. You will need to learn to control it before it controls you."
Ariana's eyes darkened slightly, but her tone remained even. "I've been tracking your awakening. I believe it's part of a greater plan—one that has yet to unfold."
She hesitated, then added cryptically, "I have a similar power to yours, though I cannot tell you much about it... yet."
Elior felt a strange pull toward her, an unspoken connection, as if she understood what he was going through. "I can help you," she continued. "I can teach you how to control your power."