The Fold had a taste—metallic, bitter, and impossibly old. Every breath felt like inhaling the choices of every life Kael had ever lived, every path he could have taken, every version of himself that never was.

They stepped forward, the air warping around them. Each footfall echoed not once, but dozens of times, as though they walked through countless versions of the same street simultaneously. Buildings rose and fell in half-seconds, doors opening to rooms that shouldn't exist, only to vanish again.

Kael gritted his teeth. "Stay close. This place… it won't tell us what's safe. It won't tell us what's real."

Eira nodded, her hand brushing his briefly, a tether in the madness. "Then we'll be each other's anchor."

Jorah muttered behind them, already half-exasperated, half-awed. "Anchor, tether… is it just me, or is this universe all about nautical metaphors today?"

Kael ignored him. Their goal was clear: find the Temporal Core and stabilize Kael without sacrificing anyone.

At first, it was simple. At least, simple in intent. The Core glowed in the distance, floating amidst a shattered landscape that seemed stitched together from dreams. But the closer they approached, the stranger it became.

Time no longer flowed linearly. Past, present, and potential futures collided, folding over each other in violent harmony. Kael stumbled as a version of himself, younger, cleaner, laughing in a garden he had never seen, passed through him. A ghostly echo whispered: You could have been happy.

Eira caught his arm. "Kael…" Her voice broke through the temporal noise. "It's okay. You are here. You are real. Don't get lost in what could have been."

He swallowed, nodding. "I… I won't. Not this time."

But the Fold didn't let anyone go untested.

Ahead, a version of Eira emerged—older, regal, wearing a crown that gleamed in a timeline where Kael had never existed. Her eyes were sharp, full of the authority of someone who had mastered her world alone. "You're… not supposed to be here," she said. Her voice was calm, too calm, as though she had seen this day in hundreds of permutations.

Eira stiffened. "I… am me. And I'm here with him."

The regal Eira's lips curved into a small, wry smile. "I wondered… what if he never came? What would you have become?"

Kael's jaw tightened. "I don't care about her version. I care about this version." He gestured at the Eira standing beside him, alive, real.

The Fold shimmered around them. Shadows of alternate selves flickered—Kael as a fallen king, a lost child, a merciless soldier. Each step was a test: would he acknowledge them, or let them fracture him?

"You have to face them," whispered Eira, her hand warm on his shoulder. "All of them. Every version of you that doubts, fears, or failed. Only then can the Core respond."

Kael inhaled, forcing himself to see each reflection. Every failure, every "what if," every path he hadn't taken, confronted him with the unflinching gaze of reality. Some were cruel, some compassionate, some indifferent. And each carried a whisper: You don't deserve to exist.

"I do," he muttered, louder, stronger. "I exist because I choose to. Not because of fate, not because of time… because I'm me. And I choose this life. I choose her."

The shadows wavered. The Fold quaked, folding inward like a dying star, responding to his declaration.

Meanwhile, Jorah fumbled against an echo of his future self—a bitter, broken man who had watched Kael die countless times. "Seriously?" Jorah muttered. "I survived all of that, and I still have to fight myself? This is ridiculous!"

The bitter echo sneered. "You never chose. You let him suffer. You let yourself decay."

Jorah swung his staff instinctively. "Yeah? Well, you also didn't get the girl, buddy! So… suck it."

The echo dissipated in a puff of time-warped smoke. Jorah exhaled, wiping sweat from his brow. "See? That's how it's done. Heroism with a touch of style."

Kael shook his head, a faint smile on his lips. "You really are impossible."

Finally, they reached the Core. It hung suspended above a fractal lake of silver light. Reflections danced across its surface—not theirs, but endless versions of the world, folding into themselves.

Kael extended a hand. The Core pulsed in response, recognizing the anchor of his existence. Eira pressed her palm to his, steadying him. "Together," she whispered.

He nodded. "Together."

As they touched it, the Fold resisted. The air thickened, a chorus of broken timelines screaming, don't take me, don't erase me, don't fix him!

Kael held firm. "I am not erasing anyone. I am stabilizing myself. I am claiming what is mine."

Light spilled outward, weaving through the cracks of the Fold. Alternate selves of Kael wavered, then bowed, finally dissipating as the Core absorbed their echoes. The air softened, time flowing normally again, the impossible weight of infinite possibilities finally lifting.

They collapsed to the ground as the Core's light dimmed, solid and stable. The Fold was gone, replaced by the quiet hum of the real world breathing around them.

Eira pressed close to Kael. "You did it. You're… whole again."

Kael exhaled slowly, gaze lingering on her. "Because I had you here. I couldn't have done this alone. Not anymore."

Jorah, sprawled across the grass like an unwilling hero, groaned. "Okay. I think my job is done. Someone else take over the heavy existential speeches."

Kael laughed softly, brushing a hand through his hair. "You've earned your rest, Jorah."

Eira's gaze met his again, fierce and gentle. "And now?"

Kael's eyes softened. "Now… we go back. We make sure the world remembers correctly. And we stay alive long enough to live it properly."

She smiled, faint but full of promise. "And maybe… we don't run this time."

He took her hand, fingers intertwining. "Then we stay. Together."

The world around them seemed to breathe, steady and real, as though acknowledging their choice. The Temporal Core's light settled into their reality, a pulse that matched their own hearts.

For the first time in countless lifetimes, Kael felt fully present. Not erased, not broken, not afraid.

The Fold had tested them. It had shown them what could have been. And they had survived.

"Let's go home," Kael said, voice firm but quiet, carrying the weight of every timeline he had ever walked.

Eira nodded. "Together."

And Jorah muttered, "Home better have snacks. Or I'm staging a rebellion."

Kael smiled, allowing himself a laugh—real, alive, and shared. They stepped forward into the restored world, stronger, united, and ready for the battles to come.

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