Silver grains of sand rose through the hourglass-heart of the robed figure, glowing like captured stars. Each grain carried a whisper—forgotten voices, lost time, fractured timelines—layered into a haunting chorus.
Nox forced himself to swallow."Where… am I?"
The figure's answer vibrated through the void, not spoken but imprinted.
"Within the Verge.The threshold where borrowed time is weighed."
Its voice seemed to have no origin, no echo—only inevitability.
Nox clenched the silver key in his hand."What do you want from me?"
The figure lifted its head slightly. Though its face was obscured by darkness, Nox felt its gaze pierce him.
"A pact.A role long unfilled.The Hourglass Astrarium has chosen you to bear the Verge."
"The… Verge?"The word tasted familiar, as if whispered to him long before he learned to speak.
"You will walk between what was… and what could be."
A circle of four symbols materialized around Nox—the same arcs he had seen in the tower, now sharper and more vivid:
Origin — a spiral of coalescing light
Echo — a ripple frozen mid-ring
Verge — a jagged arc of shifting silver
Never — a hollow void where light disappeared
The Verge rune glowed brighter than the rest.
Nox felt a pull in his chest, as if a thread of time itself tied him to the symbol.
"Why me?"
"Because you have already stepped out of your appointed hour."
The void trembled faintly.
"What does that even mean—"
But before he finished, the figure moved.Its hand touched Nox's forehead.
A rush of visions flooded him.
A clock tower collapsing in reverse.A girl crying over a broken compass that repaired itself.A city split by a frozen wave.A man with the same silver key hanging as a necklace——falling, endlessly, into an hourglass abyss.
Nox stumbled back, gasping, but there was no ground to fall on—only the illusion of it, held together by the Verge's will.
The figure's voice softened.
"The path is dangerous.But refusing is equally so."
"Equally?"
"Borrowed time must return to its source.If you walk away, the price will still seek you."
A cold ache gripped Nox's heart.The visions… were they glimpses of possibilities? Warnings? Memories belonging to someone else?
The figure opened its palm.
A small shard of starlit glass floated above it—like a fragment of the Astrarium itself.
"Take it.This is your first Accord."
"What does it do?"
"It lets you touch what stands still."
Cryptic as always.
Nox reached out. The moment his fingertips brushed the shard, a wave of cold clarity surged through him.
A symbol carved itself into the back of his hand—the Verge arc, now branded like a molten scar.
He cried out, clutching his wrist.
The robed figure slowly faded, dissolving into upward-rising sand.
Its final words echoed as the void shattered:
"Walk carefully, Verge-Bearer.The Never watches."
Nox fell—
—and slammed back into the tower room.
The lantern flames burst into motion again. Dust continued drifting midair. Time resumed.
Lira gasped as if she had only just exhaled.
"Nox!" She grabbed his arm. "Something just— you vanished for a second! What happened?"
Nox opened his mouth.
But the rune on his hand pulsed, sealing the truth behind a cold warning whisper:
"Not yet."