The desert didn't forgive footsteps.

By the second day, Kael's boots were coated in fine red dust, and Jorah had stopped pretending not to complain. The heat pressed down like a living thing, thick and relentless. Every dune shimmered with mirages — some beautiful, others cruel.

"Remind me," Jorah croaked, "why the hell we didn't take the river route?"

"Because," Kael said dryly, "the last time I took the river route, I was eaten by a time eel."

"A what?"

Kael grinned. "Long story. Don't ask."

Jorah muttered something unholy and trudged after him. Their supplies were running thin — mostly because Kael had used half their water to "test a theory" that turned out to involve shouting at the sand until it glowed. Jorah hadn't forgiven him for that.

"Are we even sure this is the right way?" Jorah said finally.

Kael pointed toward the horizon. A black shape loomed in the distance — jagged towers half-buried by dunes. "City of Chains," he said. "Welcome to my least favorite memory."

---

They reached it by nightfall.

Up close, the city wasn't dead. Not exactly. Metal spires jutted from the ground like ribs, and ghostly blue lights flickered between the ruins. The air hummed faintly with trapped energy — magic warped by centuries of misuse.

Jorah stopped at the gates. "This place feels… wrong."

"It is," Kael said. "It was built to bind time sorcerers. The gods wanted their toys leashed."

"Leashed?" Jorah echoed.

Kael nodded. "Every prisoner here had their soul anchored to the walls. If they tried to escape, the city fed on them."

Jorah shivered. "And you've been here before?"

Kael smirked. "Twice."

---

They entered cautiously. The streets were empty but lined with iron statues — men and women frozen mid-motion, faces twisted in agony. Jorah gave one a wary look.

"Tell me these aren't real people."

Kael said nothing.

A low wind passed through the alleys, carrying faint whispers — laughter, screaming, prayers swallowed by rust. Kael's hand hovered near his blade.

He felt it again — that pulse under his skin. The mark on his wrist burned faintly.

"The fragment's here," he murmured.

Jorah frowned. "How can you tell?"

"It's calling me," Kael said quietly. "Like a heartbeat that doesn't know it's missing."

---

They turned down a narrow street that led into an open courtyard. At its center stood a massive stone wheel half-buried in the sand. Chains the size of serpents wrapped around it, each etched with runes that glowed a dull orange.

Kael approached it slowly. The closer he got, the more the ticking inside his head grew louder — faster.

He reached out.

The ground trembled.

"Kael," Jorah said nervously, "maybe don't touch the ancient cursed thing?"

Too late. Kael's fingers brushed the chain — and the entire city woke up.

---

The statues screamed.

Metal groaned as the walls shifted, glowing sigils flaring to life across every surface. From the shadows, shapes began to move — armored figures of black steel, their eyes burning blue. They moved like puppets pulled by invisible strings.

"Guards," Kael muttered. "Old ones."

Jorah drew his dagger. "You sure they're not friendly?"

One of the figures screeched and lunged.

"I'll take that as a no," Jorah said.

Kael drew his sword, spinning it in his grip. Blue light erupted along the blade as he slashed. The first guard fell, split cleanly through the chest. Another swung a rusted halberd; Kael ducked under it, laughing as sparks flew.

"Still moves like clockwork," he said.

"Less commentary, more surviving!" Jorah shouted, stabbing one through the eye.

---

They fought their way toward the wheel, Kael cutting through metal and memory alike. Every strike echoed like thunder. Every spark felt like déjà vu.

The last guard fell, head rolling across the sand. Silence followed — heavy, waiting.

Kael stood panting before the chained wheel. "You can come out now," he said.

From the shadows behind the wheel, someone clapped slowly.

Kael turned — and froze.

A tall man stepped forward, his armor dark silver, his eyes bright gold. His smile was lazy, dangerous, and horribly familiar.

"Hello again, Commander," he said. "Still breaking things you shouldn't?"

Kael's grin faded. "Tarin."

---

Tarin laughed. "Oh, don't look so surprised. You think time forgot me?"

"You died," Kael said flatly. "I buried you myself."

"You buried a body," Tarin replied, stepping closer. "Not me. The gods had other plans."

Kael's grip on his sword tightened. "Let me guess. You're their lapdog now."

Tarin shrugged. "Better a lapdog than a ghost. They brought me back to hunt paradoxes. Imagine my delight when the first one was you."

Jorah blinked. "Wait, this guy's a god's bounty hunter?"

Tarin smirked. "Professional term is 'Chrono Warden.'"

Kael spat. "Fancy words for slave."

Tarin's eyes glowed. "You always were arrogant."

"And you always were predictable."

---

The chains rattled violently behind them. The sigils pulsed brighter, feeding off their presence. Tarin drew his sword — long, curved, and made of pure light. The air warped around it.

Kael tilted his head. "Is that—"

"The Blade of Dawn," Tarin said proudly. "Forged from what's left of the gods' patience."

Kael's grin returned. "Then I'll break that too."

Tarin lunged. Kael parried, the clash of their blades sending shockwaves through the courtyard. Sparks of blue and gold filled the air. Jorah dove for cover as stone shattered around him.

"You can't win this time!" Tarin shouted, striking again.

Kael's laughter echoed through the chaos. "I don't need to win. I just need to rewrite!"

He twisted his wrist, channeling the mark's power. The world stuttered — colors bending, motion slowing. For a heartbeat, Kael stood outside of time itself.

He smirked. "Still think I'm predictable?"

He slammed his blade down.

---

The chain wheel exploded. Energy burst outward like a tidal wave, sweeping through the city. The statues crumbled. The air shimmered with fractured light — time itself tearing open.

Tarin was thrown back, his armor cracking. He roared in fury as Kael grabbed Jorah's arm. "Move!"

They dove through the collapsing archway just as the world behind them imploded into dust and flame.

When the light finally faded, the desert was silent again — the city gone.

Jorah groaned, coughing sand. "Next time," he said weakly, "we take the river route."

Kael stood over the smoking ruins, staring at the glowing fragment in his hand — a shard of blue crystal pulsing with the same rhythm as his heart.

He smiled faintly.

"One down," he whispered. "Six to go."

---

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