The chamber hummed with an energy Eran couldn't describe. The glowing symbols on the walls seemed alive, pulsing softly as though they were breathing. Lyra moved confidently through the room, her fingers brushing against the symbols as if searching for something.
"Where are we?" Eran asked, his voice echoing slightly in the cavernous space.
Lyra glanced over her shoulder. "This place is called the Sanctum of Echoes. It's one of the few places left untouched by the council's influence. They can't reach us here—at least not yet."
Eran approached the wall, studying the strange markings. "What are these symbols?"
"They're fragments of the Rift," Lyra explained, her tone softening. "When the council created the Eternal Rift, it left traces—echoes of its power scattered across time. This sanctum is built around those echoes, a safe harbor for those who oppose the council."
Eran turned to her, his curiosity growing. "And who exactly are 'those who oppose the council'? Is there a group of you?"
Lyra hesitated, then nodded. "There were more of us once. A resistance. We called ourselves the Keepers of the Line. Our mission was to restore balance, to undo the damage caused by the Rift. But the council hunted us down, one by one. Now, it's just me."
Her words hung heavy in the air, and Eran could see the weight she carried. Despite her composure, there was a sadness in her eyes—a reminder of all she had lost.
"And now you expect me to take their place?" Eran asked.
Lyra turned to face him fully, her gaze unwavering. "I expect you to fight. You've already been drawn into this, Eran. The Rift is tied to you, whether you like it or not."
Eran frowned. "You keep saying that, but you haven't explained why. How am I connected to the Rift?"
Lyra sighed, as though preparing herself for a difficult truth. "You were born the same year the Rift was created. That's not a coincidence. Your existence is tied to the fabric of time itself. The council doesn't just see you as a threat—they see you as the key to controlling the Rift completely."
Eran staggered back, her words hitting him like a blow. "That's… impossible. I'm just a historian. I've never done anything extraordinary."
"That's because you've been living under their watch," Lyra said. "The council keeps close tabs on anyone connected to the Rift. They've suppressed your potential, kept you blind to your true nature. But the fact that you're standing here now proves you're more than what they wanted you to be."
Eran's mind raced, memories flashing through his thoughts—moments that had seemed strange at the time but now felt significant. The unexplained déjà vu, the way certain events seemed to repeat themselves, and the unshakable feeling that he didn't belong.
"What do you expect me to do?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Lyra stepped closer, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Learn. Understand the Rift, its power, and the council's plans. If we can disrupt their control over the Rift, we can free this town—and maybe the entire world—from their grasp."
Eran swallowed hard, the enormity of the task weighing on him. "How do we start?"
Lyra's lips curled into a faint smile. "With this."
She moved to the center of the chamber and placed her hand on a circular pedestal. The room shuddered, and the glowing symbols flared brightly. A holographic map appeared in the air, displaying what looked like a blueprint of Lumenholt.
"This is the heart of the Rift," Lyra said, pointing to a pulsating point on the map. "The council's headquarters. It's where they control everything—from the timelines to the enforcers."
Eran studied the map, his eyes narrowing. "So, we go there and shut it down."
"It's not that simple," Lyra said. "The headquarters are protected by layers of temporal distortions. Entering without the right tools would trap us in a loop—or worse."
Eran crossed his arms. "Then what's the plan?"
Lyra's gaze hardened. "There's an artifact—an ancient key that can stabilize the distortions. It was created by the same force that forged the Rift, and it's hidden in the Forgotten Archives. If we can find it, we'll have a chance."
"The Forgotten Archives?" Eran echoed. "I've read about them. They're buried deep beneath the old part of town. No one's been there in decades."
Lyra nodded. "Which is why the council hasn't destroyed them. They think it's too dangerous for anyone to reach. But they underestimate us."
Eran felt a flicker of determination. For the first time, he had a purpose beyond his quiet life of unanswered questions. "When do we leave?"
"Now," Lyra said, her voice firm. "Every moment we wait, the council tightens its grip. And they won't stop until they've erased both of us from the timeline."
Eran nodded, steeling himself for the journey ahead. As they left the sanctum, a sense of foreboding settled over him. He knew the path they were embarking on was fraught with danger, but for the first time in his life, he felt ready to face it.