Prologue

The ruins whispered of a forgotten world.

Her uncle's notes lay scattered across the dusty table in her room, fragments of a mystery she couldn't yet unravel. Sketches of sculptures and murals adorned the pages, each etched with symbols and figures defying comprehension. Amid the chaos of his handwriting, one phrase repeated itself, haunting her thoughts:

"The Gate of Time opens where the stars meet the earth."

For centuries, humanity had unearthed fragments of Earth's lost history. But these ruins—her uncle's last discovery—were different. They defied classification, belonging to no known civilization. The carvings on the walls, the weathered statues of gods and warriors, all hinted at a culture erased from time itself.

The words echoed in her mind as she stared at the holographic projection of the site. It shimmered before her, a fractured likeness of Ajanta Ellora—broken pillars and half-buried statues bathed in moonlight, their intricate patterns whispering secrets from the past.

"They're sending you to your home planet tomorrow," the officer had said, his voice curt. "Your uncle's disappearance has stirred… unwanted attention. You're not safe here."

She knew what he didn't say. The ruins had become a focal point of rumors—whispers of ancient technology, power, and knowledge that could disrupt the fragile balance of their world. People wanted answers, and not all of them were willing to wait.

Safe. The word felt hollow, meaningless. Safety wouldn't bring answers. Safety wouldn't bring back her uncle. He was her only family—the man who had raised her, trained her, and taught her to think for herself. She couldn't leave, not without knowing the truth.

That night, under the cover of darkness, she slipped past the guards and made her way to the ruins.

The excavation site loomed like a broken monument to an age long forgotten, its skeletal remains rising from the barren earth. The arches stretched high above her, their surfaces cracked yet defiant, etched with celestial battles worn smooth by time. Even in ruin, the place radiated an unnatural grandeur.

The air grew heavier as she approached, thick with an energy that prickled her skin. She slipped through the barriers with practiced ease, her training rendering the primitive security a trivial obstacle. Inside, the scene resembled a battlefield. Discarded tools and shattered devices lay strewn across the ground, alongside her uncle's scattered belongings.

Her fingers brushed a fragment of paper, its edges torn and brittle. It was covered in hastily sketched murals, each depicting figures locked in impossible poses. One figure stood out: a faceless woman holding a circular object aloft, surrounded by ancient symbols spiraling outward, too damaged to decipher.

The chamber pressed down on her, the weight of its silence almost unbearable. Yet something drew her gaze—a faint shimmer at the edge of the room.

It pulsed, like a dying ember struggling to reignite.

The glow spilled across the stone floor, its light awakening the carvings on the walls. Patterns writhed and shifted, as though trying to escape their stone prison. The arches above seemed to hum faintly, a sound that grew louder with every step she took.

Her breath quickened. The light was impossibly beautiful, a beacon of something far beyond her understanding. Yet it felt wrong, like it didn't belong in this world.

She reached out, her hand trembling as her fingers brushed the edge of the glow.

A low hum filled the air, rising into a deafening roar that swallowed her entirely. The ground shook beneath her feet. The glow erupted, blinding in its intensity, and the chamber dissolved into chaos.

In the light, she saw them—eyes. Yellow, unblinking, and ancient. They stared at her with a knowing intelligence, as if they could see through time itself.

The roar swelled, drowning her thoughts, her senses. And then, in an instant, it was gone.

No hum.

No light.

Just silence.

Her uncle's last words surfaced in her mind, scribbled hastily in the margins of his notebook:

"The Gate demands a guide… and a traveler."

The stillness pressed down on her, thick and unyielding.

And then, the quiet consumed her.