Chapter 82: The Cosmic Clockmaker's Bargain
The mirror had closed behind Kael, sealing away the infinite versions of himself that had tried to speak, scream, or save him. The stars above him burned a little brighter, as though the heavens themselves had leaned in to witness what he had become.
But Kael wasn't celebrating any transformation.
He was walking silently—no footsteps echoed, though the terrain beneath him was hard crystal, growing sharper and darker with each step. Behind him, Elenai and Zeraphin followed, their expressions wary.
"Where are we going now?" Elenai finally asked.
Kael's voice was soft, but resolute. "To the Clockmaker."
Even Zeraphin paused mid-stride. "You're serious?"
Kael turned his head just slightly, enough to show the cold gleam in his eye. "He owes me a favor."
The Realm Between Seconds
It wasn't a place that could be reached through distance. Not by flight, teleportation, or portals. The Realm Between Seconds had to be entered by forgetting time existed.
They stood still.
They breathed together.
And then the world peeled away.
Reality melted like wax in the sun. Colors unmade themselves. Sound unraveled into pure silence. The ticking of a single massive clock replaced all sensation.
And then they were there.
A vast circular chamber, filled with floating gears the size of planets, all turning at different speeds. Each gear was etched with languages from dead civilizations and future species yet unborn. And at the center of it all, sitting cross-legged atop a glass pendulum the size of a moon, was The Cosmic Clockmaker.
He looked nothing like a god. More like a kindly old man made of clock parts and curiosity, wearing goggles that saw through time.
"Kael!" he said without looking up, twisting a spanner around a starlight-threaded bolt. "You brought guests. That's new."
"I need your help," Kael said.
"You always do," the Clockmaker smiled.
A Deal With Time Itself
As Kael stood on the pendulum platform, the Clockmaker floated lazily on his back, lounging on air like it was a hammock.
"You broke the Mirror Beyond the Abyss," he said, amused. "Even I wouldn't have done that."
"I didn't break it. I opened it," Kael replied.
"Same thing, depending on which Authority Rank you ask," the Clockmaker quipped, waving a hand. "So, what do you want now? A pause in the fabric of time? A reversal of an age? Or…"
He sat up abruptly, the room trembling as if time itself flinched.
"You want to access the Forgotten Timeline, don't you?"
Zeraphin's eyes widened. Elenai stepped back.
The Forgotten Timeline—a reality that was deleted by the first war between primal beings. A timeline where Kael never existed, where the throne never fractured, and the Vessel of Equilibrium never needed to be built.
"That's suicide," Zeraphin muttered. "You'd be nothing there. No Authority, no godhood. You'd be…"
Kael nodded. "Just a man."
"But why?" Elenai asked, voice trembling.
Kael turned to her, and for once, the eternal weight in his eyes was lighter.
"Because maybe the only way to fix what's coming… is to see the world where I never broke it."
The Clockmaker's Price
The Clockmaker stood and extended his hand. A small timepiece floated between his fingers—it glowed with living minutes, each tick echoing across the multiverse.
"You can go," he said. "But there's a price."
Kael took a breath. "Name it."
"You'll lose all memory of who you are while you're there," the Clockmaker said. "No powers. No companions. No throne. Nothing. Just a man with no past."
Elenai stepped forward. "You can't do this. Not now. We're so close to uncovering the Root Path!"
Kael smiled sadly. "Sometimes to move forward, you have to remember what it was like to be powerless."
He turned to Zeraphin. "If I don't return in one cycle, use the Vessel. Rewrite me."
Zeraphin's jaw clenched. "You'd trust us with that?"
"I'd trust you with me," Kael replied.
The Leap Into Unbeing
Kael touched the timepiece.
The world fell away.
Not like before. This time, there was no swirling light, no powerful surge.
There was only... silence.
He awoke beneath a gray sky, lying in mud, surrounded by unfamiliar trees. A village burned in the distance. Screams echoed faintly.
He didn't know his name.
He didn't know what he was.
But his body ached with the memory of power that no longer responded. And in the dirt beside him, half-buried in the muck, was a pendant—a symbol of balance. A tiny replica of the Vessel of Equilibrium.
He clutched it without knowing why.
Somewhere deep inside, something still remembered.
And thus began Kael's journey… as a mortal.
Meanwhile — At the Edge of Creation
High above, in the Spiral Library of Reality's Roots, an ancient librarian stirred. His quill scratched furiously as he wrote into the Book of What Should Not Be.
A red page turned.
A title appeared.
Chapter 83: The Man Who Was God
He paused.
Looked up.
And whispered, "It has begun."
End of Chapter 82