The Sentinel's first step cracked the floor.
Its armor shifted like sliding monoliths, each movement grinding with the weight of centuries. The clockface mask glowed faintly, its hands spinning counter to reality. Every rotation distorted the chamber—hourglasses flickered, timelines spasmed, the air thickened with pressure.
Kalo reacted first.
White sigils flared under his feet, forming a quick barrier as the Sentinel's fist came down like a falling tower. The blast shattered the floor, sending shards of glass and fragments of lost futures in every direction.
Nox darted left, moving with the ease of a shadow slipping through darkness.He sprang upward and slammed a blade of condensed darkness along the Sentinel's shoulder, carving a deep, black scar.
The Sentinel didn't flinch.
Instead, the mask rotated toward Nox, the clock hands aligning into a perfect vertical line.
Time around Nox froze.
Mid-air, mid-breath, his body locked like stone.
Kalo shouted, surging forward, light swirling into a spear. He thrust it at the Sentinel's neck.
The Sentinel turned its mask toward Kalo.
Time buckled.
The spear dissolved into dust.
Kalo staggered, chest tightening as his heartbeat skipped—literally skipped—three beats in a row. The effect passed as quickly as it came, but the message was clear:
The Sentinel could rewrite time in small pockets, undoing actions before they completed.
"Great," Kalo muttered breathlessly. "A monster that edits reality."
Nox's body jerked free from the time-lock, falling hard onto the floor.He rolled to his feet, scowling.
"I hate this place."
"You hate everything," Kalo shot back.
"Not everything," Nox replied with a smirk before he charged.
Kalo followed.
Together, light and shadow spiraled around them, weaving into the Gemini Verge's distinctive helix. Their powers resonated: Kalo stabilizing the fractured time around them, Nox manipulating the shadows produced by the unstable hourglasses.
The Sentinel raised both arms.
Twelve circular runes ignited around it, each a glowing zodiac-like sign.The runes spun faster, merging into a blinding halo.
"Move!" Kalo yelled.
The halo erupted into beams of compressed time, slicing through the chamber. Entire hourglasses exploded into sandstorms of dead futures. One beam clipped Kalo's shoulder, instantly aging his sleeve into tatters and burning his skin with cold fire.
Nox grabbed him, dragging him behind a broken pillar.
"You okay?"
Kalo grit his teeth. "I will be."
The Gemini Verge pulsed, healing the temporal burn slowly—too slowly.
Nox peered around the corner. "Its weak point is the mask. Everything else is armor or temporal shielding."
"Figured," Kalo nodded. "But how do we hit something that rewinds our strikes?"
Nox grinned, though it was strained.
"By doing something it can't predict."
The plan came together in Kalo's mind instantly—reckless, dangerous, but possibly their only chance.
He placed his palm on Nox's chest.
Nox's eyes widened slightly. "What are you doing?"
"Syncing," Kalo whispered.
The Gemini Verge flared, merging their pulses, emotions, intent. For a brief moment, Kalo saw from Nox's perspective—the darkness humming like a second heartbeat, the instinct to destroy anything that threatened Kalo's existence.
Nox, in turn, felt Kalo's determination—a steady, unyielding force that refused to let anyone be erased again.
They stepped from cover at the same time, perfectly in sync.
The Sentinel's runes flared again, preparing another attack.
Nox lunged forward, but it wasn't an assault—it was a feint.
Kalo leapt in the opposite direction, creating a disorienting fork in movement the Sentinel struggled to track.
It hesitated.
Just a second.
But a second was all they needed.
Nox's shadow struck first, aiming for the neck.
The Sentinel tried to rewind the attack—
—but Kalo was ready.
He seized the thread of time the Sentinel attempted to pull, his cracked Hourglass mark glowing as he anchored the second in place.
Time groaned.
Reality stuttered.
The Sentinel's rewind failed.
Nox's blade hit the mask.
A spiderweb crack spread across the clockface.
The Sentinel staggered.
Kalo followed up with a blast of radiant energy, the light focusing into a narrow beam that struck the same spot. The crack widened, splitting the mask in half.
For the first time, the Sentinel screamed.
It collapsed to its knees, armor fracturing into dust.
Then, with a final distorted chime, the construct disintegrated completely.
Silence fell—except for the shifting whispers of the Archive.
Kalo breathed hard, clutching his arm. "We… won."
Nox wiped blood from his lip. "Barely."
The pedestal behind them flickered.
The ghostly silhouette of Kalo—the older, hollow-eyed version—reformed, weaker than before.
"You have defied the Sentinel…" it whispered. "But now the Archive will react. The Astrarium will not allow two destinies to coexist."
Kalo stepped forward. "Tell me how to fix this."
Nox's voice was low. "Tell us how to survive it."
The apparition flickered violently.
"To survive," it rasped, "you must decide… which of you will claim the Sovereign Hourglass."
Both Kalo and Nox froze.
The chamber darkened as a massive, ancient hourglass emerged from the shadows—towering, ominous, leaking crimson sand.
The Sovereign's relic.
The one that could rewrite fate—or erase worlds.
And it wanted one of them.