Jason's cry tore through the air like lightning splitting the sky.
At that very moment, the universe seemed to hold its breath.
Time stopped.
Across the world, everything froze: birds hung motionless in the sky, cars halted mid-turn, people suspended mid-gesture. Even the wind was still, as if nature itself had been paused.
15 seconds of absolute silence.
Then, suddenly, time restarted, but it moved faster.
Clock hands spun wildly, digital screens flickered through hours at a terrifying pace. Shadows from the sun shifted unnaturally fast along the walls. Humans, though still in their physical form, could feel the distortion around them.
Mothers held their children tightly. The elderly made the sign of the cross. Teenagers filmed the spinning clocks. In hospitals, patients screamed in fear. Some whispered that the end of the world had begun.
A wave of panic swept through the cities.
People fled the streets in confusion. Rumors spread like wildfire: "Time is broken!", "Someone unleashed a curse!"
But in a shadowed alley of the city, Jason knelt, hands on the ground, unaware that he, through the pain in his heart, had caused this fracture in reality.
And at that very instant… a hooded figure, hidden behind a bent streetlamp twisted by the chaos of time, watched Jason closely.
A voice whispered:
— "He is one of them... The bearer of the anomaly."
While clocks spun wildly and panic spread, Jason remained kneeling on the ground, tears streaming down his dirt-covered cheeks. He didn't understand what he had done… he had only cried out. A cry born of despair, of emptiness, of loss.
Around him, people screamed, ran, fled. Sirens echoed through the air. The sky turned strange: lightning with no storm, purple glimmers in the clouds.
Jason looked up. He saw an invisible crack in the air—like a tear in the fabric of the world, suspended before him, vibrating, unstable. A strange energy pulsed from it.
— "What... is this?" he whispered.
But Jason, hypnotized by the crack, didn't move. A voice had just emerged in his mind. An ancient, deep voice, speaking a forgotten language… yet somehow, he understood it.
— "You called… and Time answered."
The ground trembled slightly. The streetlamps flickered. The crack grew wider.
Léon stepped back, frightened. He could feel the same divine energy that had once passed through him in the coma.
Sirens echoed across the city—loud, relentless. Léon and Doplamine ran through the dark alleys, fleeing the authorities. They knew these hidden paths, these forgotten city corridors where shadows swallowed screams.
Léon knew. He knew they were looking for him.
But suddenly… silence.
A black street. Empty. Cut off from the rest of the world.
And then, a voice. Deep. Ethereal. Cold.
— "Léon…"
They froze.
— "Léon…"
— "Léon…"
Three times. No echo. Only a deafening void.
Léon turned, eyes wide, breath shaky. His heart beat like a sacred drum in his chest.
— "Wait… Did you hear that? Someone's calling me…"
Doplamine, trembling, looked around in panic.
— "No, no Léon… We have to keep going, it's a trap, this isn't normal…"
But Léon had already taken a few steps into the darkness, scanning the walls, the corners, the sky.
— "I need to know who's calling me. That wasn't a human voice…"
— "Léon, please…" begged Doplamine, tears in his eyes, "come with me. We need to get back to the children—you're risking your life here!"
Léon turned to him, calm but resolute.
— "Go. Protect them. I'll catch up."
Doplamine shook his head but obeyed, heart heavy. He ran into the darkness, disappearing into the alleys.
Léon stood alone. The wind picked up. Streetlights flickered. And in that black corridor… the voice spoke again.
— "At last… you are ready."
Léon slowly approached the corridor from which the voice had called. Each step echoed strangely, as if space itself was holding its breath.
Suddenly, a blue light appeared at the end of the hallway. Dim at first, then it grew brighter. It pulsed gently, like a living heart.
Curious—almost drawn to it—Léon stepped closer.
The light transformed into a portal, a glowing oval suspended in midair, humming with energy. He could feel the air changing—smelling like molten metal, tasting like ancient wind.
And then...
A hand emerged from the portal.
A human hand, but made of blue energy—transparent and burning.
Before Léon could step back, the hand grabbed his arm. A shockwave surged through his entire body.
The ground trembled.
The sky shuddered.
And above them, the moon began to change color.
The night blue turned violet, then dark... then blood red.
The stars disappeared one by one, swallowed by the void. A strange wind swept through the streets. Animals fell silent. People came out of their homes, eyes lifted to the sky, frozen by the fear of the unknown.
From the portal, a figure began to emerge.
A man, wrapped in a dark crimson cloak, stepped forward slowly—as if defying the weight of time itself. His face was partially hidden under a hood, but his black hair was visible… and then, before Léon's eyes, it began to turn white, strand by strand, as if the years were suddenly catching up to him.
Léon, frozen between fear and fascination, stepped back.
— Who are you?! he cried, his voice shaking. How do you know my name?!
The man said nothing. His eyes—glowing with a supernatural blue—locked onto Léon's, unblinking. He seemed… elsewhere. As if he were staring through time itself.
No words.
No gestures.
Just a crushing silence… until, in the distance, a deafening noise erupted.
BOOM!
The ground shook.
A wave of hot air swept through the alley.
Léon turned his head for just a second, toward the source of the blast. A building had collapsed nearby, sending dust and fire into the blood-red sky.
When he looked back toward the man in the crimson cloak...
He had vanished.
To be continued