Thorns of Chaos

Zeo stood in the middle of the village, where he first saw scared humans. Once a meeting hall, now it is just rubble and breathing soil.

He raised his hand, drawing a new symbol in the air.

Three circles. But this time… surrounded by clock hands that were all broken.

This site is not for killing. But to sacrifice time.

Every place holds a memory. But time is his body.

And if the body were torn apart, holes would appear. And from that hole, they will come.

Zeo closed his eyes. And started talking in a language that had no order. Sentences that can't be written. A spell that only works if it is not understood.

And the moment he said it—time in the village stopped.

Not slowing down. Stop.

Frozen bird in the air. The wind froze through the leaves. The shadow doesn't move. Raindrops hang in the air, not falling.

The entire village became an unprintable photo.

And from the ground… black cracks began to appear. Not broken ground. But a kind of door in the timeline.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the village, Rivan gasped.

He saw that his candle flame was still.

The sky was frozen.

And inside him, the embedded symbol of the Book of the Broken Mirror began to tick—like a broken clock trying to start.

"He sacrificed time… that means: the door has been activated. Now it's just a matter of waiting for someone broken enough to open it from within."

And behind it all—the voice returned. Not from the world, but from the very foundation of reality:

"Finally… the eyes can see."

Zeo opened his eyes. And before him, the crack formed a giant eye that slowly opened.

He smiled. Not satisfied. But ready.

"Look at me, Darzel."

"I open the world to you."

Outside the village, Veyrn stood silently on the cracking ground.

He stared at the sky, which no longer had any color, and the earth, which no longer had the pulse of time.

In his hand: the Staff of Consciousness Breaker, an ancient artifact of the First Order—used only when the fabric of the world was too broken to be restored.

He took off his robe. Carved into his body were hundreds of tiny symbols, traces of an ancient contract he had sealed within himself. Each symbol represented a piece of the world's stable dimension.

And now… he would erase it all.

One spell, one action—and this village would be erased from the order of reality.

It wouldn't explode.

It wouldn't burn.

It just… never existed.

From the center of the village, Zeo stood still before the eye-shaped crack. Time froze around him. But he could feel something.

The world was beginning to reject his existence.

From afar, he saw Veyrn approaching slowly. Unhurried. Unthreatening. But sure.

Veyrn's ritual was not a duel. Not an attack.

It was a reset.

"The final step, Zeo," Veyrn said, his voice inaudible to his ears, but deep in his head. 

"You open the way. I close it all."

Zeo laughed softly. "With what? Your own body?"

Veyrn nodded. 

"Yes. My body… will be the closing of this world."

Symbols began to appear in the sky, surrounding the village. 

Broken letters. Unfinished sentences. Forms of a ritual of nullifying existence. 

The sky vibrated. Not a sound. But the reaction of reality feeling like it was about to be cut from itself. 

And at the center—Zeo stood. 

Silent. 

Waiting. 

"If the world must be lost… then at least I open the door," he muttered. 

Meanwhile, Veyrn raised his staff high, and one sentence began to speak: 

"Let the world forget the wounds that cannot be healed."