Time was breaking again.

Lord Sareth Valtheris knelt before the shattered clock, its glass face splintered into a dozen jagged pieces. Each fragment reflected a different version of himself—one young, one old, one already dead with hollow eyes staring back. The pendulum swung erratically, faster than it should, then freezing midair as if caught between seconds. The fracture was deep this time. Too deep.

"It's here." The whisper slithered through the chamber like a draft.

Sareth clenched his fists. The Shadow had come for him.

The chamber, once a proud vault of the Timekeepers, had warped into something unnatural. Bookshelves curved impossibly, staircases folded into themselves. Candles flickered in reverse, their flames shrinking into wicks instead of growing. This was the cost of resisting time. Every second he fought, the world rewrote itself around him.

A dark mist coiled at the edge of his vision. A figure stood within—a shape barely human, its form shifting between silhouettes as though undecided which version of itself to be. It had no face, only a hollow void where its features should have been. Yet, Sareth knew it was watching him.

The Shadow of Chrono.

"I am not ready," Sareth whispered.

The entity stepped forward, silent.

"You never are."

Sareth flung out his hand, summoning the last dregs of his power. The Timebrand on his forearm ignited—ancient runes burning silver against his skin. He reached into the fracture, grasping at the strands of reality itself. He had done it before. Pulled himself back. Stolen a few more days. A few more years.

But this time, the strands unraveled like brittle thread.

The Shadow advanced. Fate was correcting itself.

Sareth fell to his knees, breath ragged. He had spent a lifetime running, manipulating, bending time to his will. All in vain. He had delayed the inevitable, but inevitability had finally arrived.

"It won't end with me," he whispered. "My bloodline still stands. My heir still lives."

The Shadow hesitated.

And then, for the first time, it spoke.

"Not for long."

Darkness swallowed the chamber. The shattered clock stopped. The last echo of Lord Sareth Valtheris was erased from time.

But the curse remained.

And now, it would pass to the next heir.