The Hollow Citadel didn't lie.

It was exactly what the name promised — hollow, empty, and dead.

Kael and Jorah stood before it as dawn broke, light spilling over black towers that leaned like broken teeth. The air was thick with dust and silence; even the wind refused to enter.

Jorah whistled low. "Cheerful place."

Kael's gaze drifted over the ruined gates, the shattered archways carved with runes he knew by heart. His memories of this place weren't kind. "This is where I died the first time," he said softly.

Jorah blinked. "You make it sound like a vacation spot."

Kael smirked faintly. "Depends on the company."

---

They crossed the cracked bridge leading into the heart of the citadel. Beneath it stretched a pit that seemed bottomless, filled with swirling fragments of light — frozen moments, locked in time. Kael glanced down as he walked, seeing flashes of himself in the reflections below.

In one, he was wearing a crown.

In another, a noose.

In another still, he was kneeling before a blade of light — the same moment he remembered dying.

Jorah caught him staring. "You okay?"

Kael tore his gaze away. "Just ghosts."

The wind howled briefly, almost laughing.

---

Inside, the citadel was a maze of obsidian corridors, every wall carved with sigils meant to trap temporal energy. They glowed faintly at Kael's passing, reacting to the pulse of the shard in his chest pocket.

"Something's pulling," he murmured.

"Hopefully toward treasure," Jorah muttered, brushing cobwebs from his hair.

Kael stopped before a massive circular door made of bronze and stone. Its surface rippled faintly, as though remembering a shape. "It's here."

The shard in his hand vibrated violently, light spilling between his fingers. The door responded with a deep, echoing hum — and then began to open.

---

The chamber beyond was unlike the ruins outside.

Smooth, untouched. Perfectly preserved.

In the center stood a crystal sarcophagus, and inside it — a man.

Jorah's eyes widened. "That's… you."

Kael didn't answer. He approached slowly, each step heavier than the last. The man inside the crystal was identical — down to the faint scar on his jaw. But this version looked… peaceful. Almost regal. His armor gleamed, his hands folded over a blade that shimmered faintly with golden gears.

"The Chrono Blade," Kael whispered.

"The one that shattered?" Jorah asked.

Kael nodded. "And the one I used to destroy the world."

Jorah frowned. "So, wait… this is your body from that timeline?"

Kael touched the crystal. It was cold, impossibly so. "No. This is what's left when you die out of order."

---

The walls flickered suddenly — projections of time bleeding into reality. Images swirled across the room: Kael standing atop armies, Kael laughing over fire, Kael falling to his knees as his friends turned their blades on him.

Jorah backed up. "Uh, is this normal?"

Kael's voice was quiet. "The Citadel was built to contain paradoxes. When I shattered time, this place became a cage for every version of my death."

"Comforting."

Kael ignored him. The shard in his hand was glowing brighter, vibrating so violently it hurt. The energy in the room began to spiral toward it — drawn to the resonance of its power.

And then the voice spoke.

> "You shouldn't have come back."

Kael froze. The voice was his own — but older. Deeper.

The crystal coffin cracked down the middle.

Jorah shouted, "Kael—!"

The body inside opened its eyes.

---

Light burst from the sarcophagus, blinding and pure. Kael staggered back as the air filled with shimmering dust — fragments of frozen seconds dissolving into motion. The man inside stepped out, whole and alive, his armor gleaming with divine light.

Older Kael looked at him with a faint smile. "I was wondering when I'd remember this."

Jorah swore under his breath. "There are too many of you, man."

Kael's grip tightened on his sword. "You're… me."

"An echo," the older one corrected. "The last thing left of the version that died here."

He glanced at the shard in Kael's hand. "You've started collecting them."

Kael nodded warily. "Seven fragments. I've found one."

The echo smiled sadly. "Then you've already changed too much."

---

Kael frowned. "You're going to tell me not to continue, aren't you?"

The echo's expression darkened. "No. I'm going to warn you that when all seven shards unite, the Chrono Blade will awaken again. And it will choose — not the past, not the future, but the loop that best serves its design."

Kael's jaw tightened. "I know."

The echo's gaze softened. "Do you? The blade doesn't grant power. It grants inevitability. The moment you complete it, time will no longer belong to you. It will belong to what you become."

"Then I'll rewrite that too," Kael said coldly.

The echo chuckled. "Spoken like me."

He reached out, placing a glowing hand on Kael's chest. "Then take this, and remember what you're fighting for."

The world went white.

---

Kael gasped as energy surged through him — his veins burning with light. For a heartbeat, he saw everything: all the timelines, all the Kaels, all the endings. Then it was gone, leaving behind only silence.

When his vision cleared, the chamber was empty. The crystal coffin shattered. The older Kael was gone.

Jorah stood nearby, eyes wide. "You were… glowing."

Kael flexed his hand. A faint mark now burned over his heart — the same sigil from the Chrono Blade's hilt.

"He gave me something," Kael murmured. "A memory. Or a curse."

"Can it at least help us not die?"

Kael smirked faintly. "If I'm lucky."

He turned toward the door. "Come on. The next shard won't find itself."

Jorah groaned. "And where exactly is that one?"

Kael's smile sharpened. "In the Tower of Glass. The place where time forgot how to move."

He glanced back once, at the shattered crystal and the still air around it. For just a second, he thought he saw his reflection grin back — darker, sharper.

Then it was gone.

---

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