Kael Asher stood in the middle of a ruined cathedral, its once-pristine walls now veined with cracks. The air shimmered unnaturally, thick with the weight of a presence unseen. Before him, suspended in the void, was a single golden thread, pulsing faintly as if alive.
This was no ordinary moment. This was his first encounter with the Threads of Chronos—the fabric of time itself.
He reached out hesitantly, his fingertips brushing against the glowing thread. A surge of energy coursed through his body, a flood of memories and emotions that weren't his own. Stars being born. Empires rising and falling. People laughing, crying, dying. He felt it all, and it was overwhelming.
A voice echoed in his mind, deep and resonant, as if it came from the depths of eternity itself.
"The threads are fragile, Kael. Each one holds a story, a life, a reality. To manipulate them is to bear the weight of countless choices. Do you accept this burden?"
Kael clenched his jaw. "I don't care about the weight. If this power lets me fix everything, then I'll take it."
The voice laughed, low and haunting. "Such arrogance. You will learn, in time, that every choice demands a price. And the price for rewriting time… is your very soul."
The thread in his hand dissolved into a myriad of glowing strands, each representing a moment in time. Kael could see glimpses of his past, fractured and broken. He saw his family, their faces blurred as if time itself had begun to erase them. He saw her—Aelina—the only person who had made him believe in happiness.
He tightened his grip on one of the threads, a silver one glowing faintly among the others. It vibrated with an energy that felt familiar yet distant. "If I can go back… if I can change what happened to her… it will all be worth it."
But as he pulled on the thread, the cathedral around him twisted. The walls bled into shadows, and the ground beneath him rippled like water. His chest felt heavy, as if an invisible hand were reaching into him, clawing at something deep inside.
A sharp pain shot through his head, and suddenly, a piece of him… vanished.
"What… what was that?" he gasped, falling to his knees.
"The price has begun to take its toll," the voice whispered. "You have just sacrificed your first memory of her. The more you pull, the more you will lose. Are you still willing to proceed?"
Kael's hands trembled. The memory he had just lost—it was small, insignificant. Or so he told himself. But deep down, he knew this was only the beginning.
"I'll keep going," he whispered, his voice resolute. "Even if it means losing everything, I'll fix this world."
As the threads swirled around him, Kael realized the truth: every step he took would bring him closer to his goal, but further from the person he once was. He was no longer just Kael Asher. He was becoming something else.
A Thread Walker, bound to the will of time.
The golden strands dimmed, fading into the void as Kael rose to his feet. In his eyes, a flicker of humanity still lingered. But how long would it last? Only Chronos knew.