Chapter 2 Momentus

Kaelthar dreamed of falling without motion.There was no wind, no sense of velocity—only the certainty that something immeasurable was passing through him while he remained still. Time did not flow here. It accumulated, stacking like invisible sediment around his thoughts.Then—A moment snapped into place.Pain vanished.Cold vanished.Even fear vanished.Kaelthar opened his eyes.He was standing.Not on ice, not on metal—but on a vast plane of translucent geometry, like overlapping sheets of glass suspended in darkness. Lines of light intersected beneath his feet, forming grids that bent and curved into impossible angles. Above him, a sky of fractured stars rotated slowly, each star repeating itself in recursive spirals.“This is…” His voice echoed, delayed by a fraction of a second, as if reality needed time to decide whether to accept the sound.A construct, whispered something within him.He turned sharply.“Who’s there?”No answer—yet the certainty remained. He was not alone.A ripple passed through the plane ahead of him, and text—no, conceptual notation—etched itself into the air, burning without heat.SIMULATION INITIALIZEDSUBJECT: KAELTHAR VEYROSSTATUS: UNAWAKENEDIMPRINT DETECTED: PSYCHOMORPH / CHRONOVEILSTABILIZATION REQUIREDKaelthar staggered back. “Simulation? No—Earth was real. Antarctica was real. I—”Reality is consistent only when observed, the inner voice replied calmly. You were observed.The plane beneath him shifted.The glass-like surface shattered upward, reforming into a vast subterranean chamber. Towering pillars of obsidian and luminous alloy spiraled into a ceiling lost in darkness. Veins of glowing blue energy pulsed along the walls like arteries, synchronizing eerily with Kaelthar’s heartbeat.High-tech.Mythical.Both, layered so perfectly they were indistinguishable.“This place…” Kaelthar whispered. “It feels ancient.”It is older than your definitions of ancient, the voice said. And newer than your concept of now.Before Kaelthar could respond, the chamber trembled.Something moved in the dark.THE FIRST ENCOUNTERThe air thickened. Gravity distorted. From between two colossal pillars emerged a figure—humanoid in outline, but wrong in execution. Its body appeared sculpted from shifting reflections, like a person made of broken mirrors and memories.Where its face should have been was a smooth void.ENTITY DESIGNATION: Mnemonic HuskTYPE: Simulation GuardianTHREAT LEVEL: InitiatoryKaelthar’s instincts screamed.He had no weapon.No armor.No understanding of what he had become.The Husk tilted its head—and the world lurched.Suddenly Kaelthar was no longer standing in the chamber.He was back on Axiom Prime.Back at the crime scene.The corpse lay before him again, eyes frozen in that same expression of unbearable recognition.“Not again,” Kaelthar growled.The Husk’s voice layered itself over the illusion—dozens of voices, all familiar.You missed something.You always do.That’s why people die.Psychological pressure crashed down on him, crushing his chest. His knees buckled.“This isn’t real,” he gasped. “You’re just—”Just what? the voices asked.Anger flared.And with it, something else.A shift.The illusion stuttered—paused—for the briefest fraction of a second.Kaelthar felt it.Not control.Not power.But awareness.Time had not stopped.It had been grasped.STEP 1 — MOMENTUS (CHRONOVEIL)Information surged into him, not as words, but as understanding.WAY: ChronoveilSTEP: 1DESIGNATION: MomentusCORE FUNCTION: Perception of temporal instantsABILITY: Awareness of decisive moments—brief windows where causality is fragileThe pause shattered.But Kaelthar moved with it.He twisted aside just as the Husk’s mirrored arm tore through the space where his head had been. The strike lagged—only slightly—but enough.He grabbed a shard of broken geometry from the floor and drove it into the entity’s chest.The Husk screamed—not in pain, but in loss. The illusion around them collapsed violently, shattering into raw data and light.The creature dissolved, leaving behind a single hovering glyph that burned itself into Kaelthar’s mind before vanishing.Silence followed.Kaelthar fell to one knee, gasping.“I didn’t… I didn’t do that consciously.”Of course not, the voice replied. Momentus does not grant control. It grants opportunity.The chamber shifted again, expanding outward into a labyrinth of descending platforms and abyssal depths.“This is training,” Kaelthar realized slowly.Yes.“And if I fail?”A pause.Then you will remain part of the Sea.THE JOURNAL AWAKENSA sudden weight pressed against his side.Kaelthar froze.The book.He reached inside his coat—and there it was, impossibly intact.The Record of Unforgettable ThingsThe cover opened on its own.Blank pages filled rapidly with ink that wrote itself in a familiar, haunting hand.If you are reading this, you survived the first fracture.Do not trust the clarity of time.Do not trust the honesty of memory.Above all—do not trust me.Kaelthar’s blood ran cold.“Who are you?” he whispered.The pages stopped writing.Slowly, deliberately, one final line appeared.I am the one who could not afford to forget.The book snapped shut.Far below, the labyrinth rumbled—and something far larger than the Husk began to stir.Kaelthar looked into the abyss, fear and determination warring in his chest.“Alright,” he muttered. “Teach me.”In the unseen depths of the simulation, something observed him with quiet, dangerous satisfaction.