ECHOES OF THE TIMELESS WORLD 4
Wandering in the endless, shifting expanse, I thought I was alone—truly, completely alone. But I was wrong.
The first one I met called herself Nyra. Whether it was her original name or one she’d adopted, I couldn’t say, but it suited her—sharp and decisive, like the edge of a blade. Nyra had been here far longer than she could remember. Her form was neither fully human nor like the shimmering beings that haunted this place. She was something in between, a survivor who had found ways to resist the pull of the dimension.
She found me near a rift in the ground, sitting in defeat after yet another failed attempt to decipher the patterns of this impossible place. At first, I mistook her for one of the beings, her glow faint but unmistakable. But then she spoke, and her voice—soft yet commanding—cut through the suffocating silence.
“You’re fighting it, aren’t you?” she asked, crouching in front of me. Her pale, glowing eyes met mine, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, I felt seen. “Good. That means you still have hope.”
Nyra wasn’t alone. She introduced me to Kael, a stoic giant whose luminous frame bore scars from battles fought against the dimension itself, and Mira, a quiet but determined figure with a warmth that reminded me of the life I’d lost. Together, they had forged something rare in this desolate place: trust. They taught me the rules they had discovered, the patterns they had unraveled. This dimension was not invincible—it had weaknesses.
The towers, they explained, were not merely prisons. They were conduits, gateways to other dimensions. And the lightning? It wasn’t random. It was the key to escape.
“There’s a way out,” Nyra said one day as we huddled under the jagged remains of a broken spire. Her voice was steady, but there was a weight to it, a pain that lingered beneath her words. “But it’s not easy. The tower must be climbed, the lightning triggered. It creates a rupture—a moment where the walls between dimensions break. If you leap into it, you might find your way back. Or...”
“Or what?” I asked, though I already felt the answer in the pit of my stomach.
“Or you’ll be scattered,” Kael said bluntly. His voice was like stone—solid, unyielding. “The dimension doesn’t let go without a fight.”
Nyra glanced at him, then back at me. “We’ve tried before,” she admitted. “We were four once. Thalia was with us—she was our heart, our courage. She pushed farther than any of us, and the dimension... it took her.”
She gestured to a strange, twisted tree nearby, its roots glowing faintly. “That’s what remains of her. The dimension consumes what it can’t control.”
Her words chilled me, but they also steeled my resolve. If Thalia had fought this place to the end, so would I.
Over the cycles—if time could even be measured here—we planned. The closest tower loomed in the distance, a jagged spire that seemed to scrape the swirling sky. Its energy pulsed like a heartbeat, steady and menacing. Nyra and the others trained me to move like the beings, to blend into the dimension’s rhythm just enough to avoid its attention. I stumbled often, my human instincts betraying me, but I learned.
The night of the climb—the closest thing to “night” in this ever-shifting world—was unnervingly still. The dimension seemed to hold its breath as we approached the tower. The rivers of light slowed, their pulses dimming. Even the beings moved less, their forms drifting in strange, hypnotic patterns.
We reached the base without incident, but the barriers of light that guarded the entrance pulsed with menace. Nyra and Kael worked in tandem, their hands weaving intricate patterns to disrupt the defenses. Mira and I stood guard, our eyes scanning the surrounding expanse for any signs of danger.
When we finally broke through, the tower welcomed us with a labyrinth of twisting corridors and walls that shifted like liquid. The air grew heavy, thick with static, as though the dimension itself was pressing against us. We climbed, dodging collapsing pathways and evading sudden bursts of energy that threatened to consume us.
It was near the top when everything fell apart.
The dimension’s resistance grew violent, its pulse erratic. Beings began to swarm, their forms flickering with fury. As we fought to push forward, Mira cried out—a jagged beam of light struck her, and she crumpled to the ground, her glow dimming. Nyra reached for her, but Kael grabbed her arm. “We can’t stop,” he said, his voice breaking. “She’d want us to keep going.”
Nyra’s face twisted with grief, but she nodded. We pressed on, Mira’s loss weighing heavy on us.
At the summit, the sky raged. Lightning crackled, arcing dangerously close as the spire hummed with raw energy. The rupture began to form—a jagged tear in the fabric of reality, swirling with light and shadow.
“This is it,” Nyra said, her voice trembling. “When the lightning strikes, jump. It’s your only chance.”
“What about you?” I asked, panic rising.
“We’ll follow,” she said, but her eyes betrayed her uncertainty.
The lightning struck, and the platform trembled. Kael shoved me toward the rupture as beings surged onto the platform. “Go!” he shouted, his voice a roar of defiance. “Don’t let this be for nothing!”
I hesitated, but Nyra pushed me, her glowing form a blur of motion as she fought to hold the beings back. “You have to believe,” she said, her voice fierce. “For all of us.”
With a final glance at the chaos behind me, I leaped into the void.
The world dissolved into light, sound, and silence. Then, nothing.
Nyra remained in the same dimension.For Thalia kael and mira . She could leave them behind
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