Kei stood before the door labeled XX, its surface breathing—pulsing like a living thing. The red markings shimmered, as if reacting to his presence. The hallway behind him was gone now. There was no turning back.
He placed a hand on the door.
It didn't feel like metal.
It felt like memories.
Memories he didn't remember having.
Flashes shot through his mind—visions of broken clocks, bleeding skies, his own reflection shattering into pieces. Then a girl… a girl he once knew? Her face blurred. Her voice echoing:
"You were never meant to wake up."
He gritted his teeth and pushed.
The door didn't open—it collapsed, folding in on itself like a dying star. A blinding white corridor stretched ahead, gravity bending and twisting.
And in the center floated a cube of transparent light, surrounded by shattered gears and wires.
He stepped forward, drawn to it.
"Don't touch it."
The voice came from behind.
Kei spun around.
It was himself—an older, exhausted version, eyes filled with regret. His jacket torn, his face scarred in new places.
"That's the TimelineCore," the older Kei said. "Once you touch it, everything rewrites. Every pain, every moment… will be erased or repeated."
"But this place—it's built to trap me!" Kei argued. "Isn't this my way out?"
Old Kei shook his head.
"No. It's a test. You're being watched. You always were."
A sudden shockwave pulsed from the cube. The corridor started collapsing.
Old Kei reached out, grabbing his younger self. "You still have a choice. Don't make the same mistake I did."
And just like that—he vanished.
The cube cracked.
Timeshattered.
And Kei was falling… through doors, through pasts, through versions of himself he didn't even remember being.
And just before he blacked out, a notification glitched across his vision:
> [Skill Fragment Recognized: Neuromancer - 51% Integration]
[Time Trace unlocked: Sector 7 - The Forgotten Battle]
The game had changed.
But the rules?
They were still being written.