The star had disappeared.
The hall seemed still… but no one believed this silence.
It was not the calm of reassurance, but the calm of something that knows everything and says nothing.
The pillars seemed to breathe slowly, the ground was firm… and the air had become very light, yet charged.
The guards breathed slowly, each exhale heavy, each inhale louder than it should have been.
Zamasa, the warrior who had never flinched before kings of war, relaxed his shoulders for a moment, as if his heart felt the weight of the world before his mind did.
Anata barely whispered,
"…Is it over?"
No one answered.
Even space itself seemed to watch them in sharp silence.
Then the cradle appeared.
Another infant was placed before the Mirror of Paths.
But this time, it was only a normal reading. Nothing special.
Another cradle was brought, then another.
Cradles kept coming, and the Mirror of Paths predicted different fates—some dangerous, some calm, some completely broken.
But no other anomaly occurred.
Navara said, "Finally, it seems things have returned to their course."
Anata replied, "But in this generation alone, in our clan, four anomalies were born. It seems the disturbances will be completely catastrophic."
Katara added, "Indeed, it looks like we are entering a completely chaotic era."
Farin said, "I only hope these are all the anomalies."
He paused, then continued,
"Dragon anomalies are welcome, but the others are something completely different. They are full dangers that can lead to countless disasters."
Zamasa asked, "And why worry? If an anomaly is born, you take care of it well; it becomes the future foundation of the clan."
Farin sighed, "Things do not work that way, Zamasa. Anomalies are individuals born to leave their mark on the universe. They are born by will, bending reality itself and tampering with the fabric of existence without even knowing it."
He paused as if organizing his thoughts, then continued,
"The problem is not with dragon anomalies. They are born with visible, obvious talent that challenges the heavens themselves, so the heavens hate them.
The real problem is the other types of anomalies. They are the true puzzle and the obscure chaos."
"But what makes anomalies truly dangerous for any clan is that they are enemies of the Dao and enemies of the heavens. The trials they bring are countless."
As the elders continued their discussion, another infant was brought and placed before the Mirror of Paths.
Time passed.
One second.
Two seconds.
Ten seconds.
Nothing happened.
Everyone tensed.
Breaths caught.
Hearts reached their throats.
Another anomaly.
Farin thought to himself, Please, let it be a dragon anomaly. One is enough. A disaster-type anomaly must not appear again.
Suddenly, the infant opened his eyes.
Ash-colored eyes shone with wisdom and brilliance not suited for any infant.
Everyone around felt something strange.
Time was no longer the same.
Reality trembled.
Their nerves felt that something was approaching the heart of the universe.
Anata blinked… then frowned.
She raised her hand slowly, trying to touch the air as if it were tangible.
She blinked again… then fixed her gaze on the Mirror.
Around the Mirror… something began to take form.
An ancient hourglass, pale… yet glowing with an eternal majesty, tore through reality and space as if it embodied the primordial river of time.
But the strange thing was, the sand did not fall from the top. Instead, it began rising from the bottom to the top, slowly… steadily… defying every natural law.
Everyone felt it.
The guards' exhales grew heavier, even the air seemed rebellious.
Anata blinked again, but the blink did not complete, as if time itself had stopped.
A drop of sweat fell from her temple… hit the ground… disappeared… then suddenly, as if time ran backward and the wheel of time had shattered and returned to zero… the sweat drop formed again, sprouted from the ground like a plant… then returned upward… attached to Anata's face and disappeared, as if it had never existed.
Her heartbeat delayed… as if time itself decided to freeze.
Everything around them began to feel that time itself hesitated, as if reality needed to think before every movement.
A thin line appeared on the body of the hourglass.
A crack.
Not like shattered glass.
But like something older than stone, older than air itself, slowly splitting.
As if time itself had been wounded, and would never fully heal.
Anata trembled, but she was not afraid.
She knew.
She knew this hourglass was not just an hourglass…
but a warning of something greater than anything they had known in their lives.
Navara said, in a soft but heavy voice,
"Makers of chaos…"
Farin finally responded, in a voice heavier than they had ever heard from him,
"A reincarnator who reached the peak of the Dao… or one returning from a future that never happened… or a traveler from a past that must remain buried."
Silence fell, heavy and suffocating. The silence of the knowing… the most dangerous kind of silence.
The cradle approached the Mirror without explanation.
The infant closed his eyes, sleeping peacefully, unaware of anything.
But as he neared the mirror's surface… something unexpected happened.
The child's face reflected…
At first, it was only a faint reflection.
Then, suddenly, it blurred.
His features departed from reality…
and transformed into an old man, surrounded by an aura of mystery and awe.
The old man smiled… a brief smile, but one that carried all time.
Then he disappeared.
Farin did not blink.
He stood silently, understanding that this child was not as he seemed.
Existence itself had tested him, challenged him, and left him to understand only one thing:
From this moment… his existence is the secret of my ancestors.
He gestured toward a man in a plain robe, with no insignias, unnoticed before.
The man stepped forward.
He carried the cradle.
The moment the child rose from the ground… the Mirror dimmed.
As if it had agreed.
Or feared.
Zamasa asked in a low voice, filled with hesitation for the first time in years,
"Where will he take him?"
Farin answered, eyes piercing,
"To where time itself fades."
He looked up at the cracked hourglass, which began to slowly vanish, and said decisively,
"If he is a maker of chaos… then we shall decide when it begins."
He turned and said,
"As for today… the era of waiting has ended."
In the depths of the hall, Aris watched all of this from his cradle calmly.
With curiosity.
Without feeling, yet his presence pressed briefly on the hall.
A short… sharp… almost imperceptible pressure, carrying a hidden wave.
At the same moment…
the Mirror trembled.
A small tremor… but it felt like the shiver of something alive.
As if it… had not yet shown them its worst.