The air was heavy, pulsing with the weight of unspoken tension. Connor Hayes stood at the edge of a shattered battlefield, his breath coming in slow, measured draws. Around him, the broken remnants of his enemies lay scattered—twisted constructs of steel and flesh, their lifeless eyes staring at nothing.

At his feet, the last of them—a towering figure clad in spiked armor—gave a final, rattling gasp. Its hand, if you could call it that, clawed at Connor’s ankle in one last desperate bid. Connor didn’t flinch. The soft click of a mechanism echoed as he twisted the dial on the device strapped to his wrist.

The construct froze, its form flickering like a bad projection, then shattered into fine, metallic dust.

Connor exhaled, his shoulders relaxing slightly as the ticking in his head quieted. He looked down at his hands—calloused, steady, and covered in streaks of oil and blood.

"Another one," he muttered, his voice low and hoarse. The words weren’t for anyone in particular.

Behind him, the sky churned, a roiling mass of red and black. The distant hum of something immense and ancient filled the air, vibrating through his bones. It had been growing louder for days now, an ever-present reminder of the thing he couldn’t outrun.

“The clock’s almost wound down, isn’t it?”

The voice came from the shadows, lilting and sharp. Rachel stepped forward, her twin sabers resting against her shoulders, their edges glinting faintly in the dim light. She looked as tired as he felt, her once-pristine armor marred by cracks and scorches.

Connor didn’t answer.

She sighed, planting one blade into the dirt as she leaned against it. “You could say something, you know. Pretend you’re not a walking mystery for five minutes.”

He glanced at her, the corner of his mouth twitching in something that might have been a smile. “We’re out of time for small talk, Rachel.”

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“And whose fault is that?” she shot back. “You’re the one who decided to tamper with forces none of us understand.”

Connor didn’t argue. He couldn’t.

The truth was, he had tampered with forces he didn’t understand—forces that had brought him here, to a world that seemed to rewrite its own rules with every passing day. A world where the ticking of a clock was as much a weapon as a warning.

“Where’s Evie?” he asked, his voice cutting through the tension.

Rachel shrugged, though the movement was stiff. “She’s doing…whatever it is she does with those cards of hers. Probably trying to summon another shadow thing to ‘buy us time.’” Her tone was mocking, but there was no real malice in it.

Connor nodded, his gaze shifting to the horizon. In the distance, the outline of a city loomed—a labyrinth of jagged spires and glowing runes that pulsed in rhythm with the ticking in his head.

He could feel it calling to him, tugging at his very being.

“Liam’s holding the line at the pass,” Rachel added, her tone softening. “He said he’ll give us as long as he can.”

Connor’s jaw tightened. “It won’t be enough.”

“It never is.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence was filled with the faint hum of distant machinery, the eerie soundtrack of this broken world.

Rachel broke it with a bitter laugh. “You know, I used to think I was the center of the universe. Back home, everything felt so…small. So manageable.” She gestured vaguely at the chaos around them. “Now? Look at this. Nothing makes sense. And you—”

She stopped, her gaze locking onto him.

“You act like it does.”

Connor’s eyes darkened, his hand brushing over the intricate device on his wrist. The clockwork mechanisms clicked faintly in response, as if alive.

“I don’t understand it,” he admitted quietly. “Not fully.”

“Then why keep pushing?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he turned and began walking toward the city, the gears on his wrist spinning faster as if sensing the path ahead. Over his shoulder, he finally replied.

“Because if I stop, none of this matters.”

Rachel cursed under her breath but followed him, her sabers held tightly in her hands.

Ahead of them, the sky cracked open, spilling light and shadow in equal measure. The city’s gates loomed closer, their runes glowing brighter, pulsing faster. The ticking in Connor’s head grew louder, a deafening crescendo that drowned out everything else.

The clock was winding down.

And so was he.