# Pact of Time and Space: Overlapping Shadows
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**Time**: Late night, Monday, July 23, 2075
**Locations**: 10th Floor Guest Room, Chain Hotel on Bahnhofstrasse, Zurich, Switzerland; Temporal Echo of Hangzhou Archaeological Institute (2025), China
**Characters**:
- Li Xiang (29, Postdoctoral Fellow at the Archaeological Institute, with a faint purple halo around his irises, a burning winged emblem scar on his palm, and two sheepskin codices tucked close to his chest)
- Valerie (Blonde lady, Guardian of the House of Heisenberg, over five hundred years old, her eye color shifting to dark purple with emotion, clad in a black velvet gown embroidered with dark gold five-pointed stars)
- Li Haoran (45, Appearing in the temporal echo, Director of the Hangzhou Archaeological Institute, with a glowing star-shaped birthmark on his palm, researching the Black Forest sarcophagus)
- Mysterious Messenger (Covert agent of the Heisenberg Foundation, communicating only through a deep male voice seeping from wall crevices, his aura carrying the scent of decaying sandalwood)
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## Scene 1: Resonance of Runes Under Moonlight
Night in Zurich poured over like thick ink. The murmur of the Limmat River was sealed behind heavy curtains, leaving only the warm yellow glow of the bedside lamp to barely fend off the Gothic chill seeping from outside. Li Xiang spread the two sheepskin codices on the hotel's oak dining table, his fingertips brushing the water-stained edges of the Execution Codex—moisture that seemed to carry the morning mist of the Black Forest, mingled with the scent of aged parchment and dry earth, a unique aroma etched by time.
Following the instructions in the codex, he pressed his palm against the page dense with runes. The winged emblem scar on his palm already burned faintly, but upon contact with the sheepskin, the heat flared abruptly, as if tiny flames danced beneath his skin. He curled his fingers instinctively, and the warmth from his fingertips spread slowly along the yellowed paper grains. Suddenly, the once-blurred black runes stirred like awakened serpents, trailing thin silver glimmers that left fleeting traces on the page. When moonlight slanted through the curtain gap, bathing the entire table, the runes blazed with a faint azure radiance, resonating in sync with the scar on his palm—as if life pulsed beneath the parchment.
"By blood as the guide, by heart as the witness…" Li Xiang whispered the Latin inscribed on the codex's title page. Before he finished, the two codices snapped shut on their own. The double-headed eagle emblems on their spines aligned perfectly, and tiny beads of blood seeped from the hollowed grape motifs—traces of the cut on his finger from earlier pages. Siphoned by the emblem, the blood snaked along the wood grain, forming a miniature five-pointed star formation on the table. Around the formation, the air twisted like ripples on a stone-struck lake, even warping the warm yellow lamp glow. Amber and azure light intertwined, casting eerie shadows on the wall, as if countless invisible vines stretched forth from the dark.
A familiar scent wafted to his nose: plaster dust mixed with aged earth, and a faint, icy chill unique to sarcophagi. His pupils contracted sharply as a blurred image emerged within the formation—a massive sarcophagus, carved with runes identical to those in the codices, standing silently in a laboratory bathed in cold white light. The sarcophagus's edges glinted with a grayish-blue sheen, its surface etched with fine scratches from years of handling, and traces of soil lingered between the runes, as if freshly unearthed from the depths of the earth, carrying the coolness of the planet's veins.
"This is… the Hangzhou Archaeological Institute?" Li Xiang recognized the "Archaeological Institute" plaque on the wall in the image, his heart pounding wildly. He reached out instinctively to touch the vision, but his fingertip passed through a cold void, feeling only the intense thrumming of the runes—as if resonating with a power from a distant time. The vibration grew stronger, shaking the table slightly, and a fountain pen slipped from the edge, clattering to the floor with a "tap" that shattered the room's uncanny stillness.
At that moment, the doorknob turned—no sound of a key, just a soft "click" as if twisted by an invisible hand. The creak of the hinge echoed sharply in the silent night, like an ancient summons.
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## Scene 2: The Night Visitor's Heisenberg Whisper
Li Xiang snapped the codices shut, tucking them into his inner backpack, and grabbed a pair of alloy cutlery from the table—his only available weapon. The metal's cold glint contrasted sharply with the burning in his palm, calming his chaotic thoughts slightly. The door creaked open a crack, and a gust of cold air swept in, carrying the crisp scent of cedar and ore, as if seeping from the earth's veins in a remote mountain forest—an aroma that mirrored the codices' mysterious aura.
"No need for alarm, Mr. Li." A soft yet steeped in the weight of years voice drifted from outside, calm as someone recounting a long-buried tale, yet carrying an unshakable authority. The door swung fully open, revealing a blonde lady standing in the doorway. Her black velvet gown brushed the corridor carpet, the dark gold five-pointed stars on its hem winking faintly in the light. Her eyes were pale gold in the warm lamp glow, but in the blink of an eye, they shifted to dark purple—an unspoken resonance with the faint purple halo around Li Xiang's irises, as if a bond transcending time and race.
"Who are you?" Li Xiang fixed his gaze on her shifting eye color and the eerie five-pointed stars on her gown. The scar on his palm burned hotter, a primal warning. His fingers tightened around the cutlery until his knuckles whitened. Though her tone was gentle, he felt an overwhelming aura of ancient mystery beneath her elegance—matching the codices' vibe—sending a chill down his spine and making him hold his breath unconsciously.
The blonde lady smiled softly, stepping to the table and tapping the traces of the five-pointed star formation with her fingertip. The bloodstains dried instantly, vanishing as if they had never existed. "I am Valerie, Guardian of the House of Heisenberg." Her voice carried a faint Gothic lilt, each word steeped in night—warm yet cool. "Your uncle walked into a temporal rift with this Execution Codex years ago." She brushed her hand over the tabletop; where her fingers passed, the lingering glow of the runes faded, restoring the room to a single warm yellow hue—as if the earlier uncanny scene had been an illusion.
Valerie pulled a folded sheepskin letter from her bosom, sealed with a double-headed eagle wax stamp, its edges yellowed with decades of storage. The eagle's claws clutched grapes tightly, the hollowed grape grains revealing fine lines in the light—identical to the emblems on the codices, even matching the curve of the eagle's feathers. "Your uncle entrusted this to the Heisenberg Foundation before his departure, to be delivered only when 'the two codices unite and the runes resonate.'"
Li Xiang took the letter tremblingly. His fingertips brushed the sheepskin's texture, catching a faint whiff of his uncle's scent—mingled with aged ink and earth. Breaking the wax seal, he found Li Haoran's familiar neat handwriting, the ink rich with the weight of old ink sticks, the page edges slightly worn, and the lines brimming with resolve and longing: "My child, when you read these words, I stand at the edge of time's well. The sarcophagus is no mere artifact, but the Heisenberg family's 'temporal anchor'—the runes upon it are keys to connecting eras. My star-shaped birthmark and your purple-eyed mark are both 'passes' bestowed by blood. Remember, the core of the blood pact is not power, but bond—the bond between her and me, and the bond between you and this world. Go to Novaria, find the blood pact crystal in the cave. It will reveal all truths, including why I chose to 'disappear.'"
At the letter's end was a tiny star-shaped symbol, identical to Li Haoran's birthmark and the core rune on the sarcophagus, its lines smooth and unwavering. Li Xiang looked up at Valerie, his eyes filled with confusion and urgency, his voice trembling faintly: "Do you know who 'she' is in the letter? Who is the bond across time that my uncle speaks of?"
"I watched her grow." Valerie's eyes dimmed, her tone tinged with melancholy as if recalling a distant past. "Her name is Catherine von Heisenberg, the last noble heir of the Heisenberg family. Her mother, the last pure noble of the clan, was branded a 'traitor' by the Elder Council and burned at the stake for loving a human. Raised in loneliness and hatred, Catherine has long sought the 'Source of Holy Blood' that can break the Elder Council's rule—and your uncle is the one destined for her." She brushed her collarbone gently, where a faint scar glimmered in the light, a mark of days gone by.
Just then, a deep male voice seeped from the wall crevices, no visible source, carrying the scent of decaying sandalwood: "Valerie, the area is safe for now, but no need to rush. The Elder Council's spies are everywhere—I will keep watch from the perimeter. Finish your guidance quickly." The voice was steady and calm, free of urgency yet radiating the caution of a long-term spy, like a shadow silently guarding in the dark.
Valerie's expression remained unchanged; she nodded slightly as if responding to the voice, then quickly slipped an obsidian blood crystal bracelet from her wrist. Strung with deep black obsidian and inlaid with tiny blood crystals that matched her eye color, glowing faintly purple in the light, its surface carved with delicate five-pointed star runes. "Put this on—it may prove useful someday." She pressed the bracelet into Li Xiang's hand. Its cold touch sent a shiver down his spine, yet strangely soothed the burning in his palm. "Now, come to the window. I will show you something that will make you understand—your fate and your uncle's have long been bound by the blood pact."
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## Scene 3: Temporal Echo—Shadows of Hangzhou 2025
Li Xiang slipped on the bracelet and followed Valerie to the window. She pulled back the curtains, and moonlight poured down, illuminating his palm. The blood crystals on the bracelet blazed red, resonating with the blue glow emanating from the codices in his backpack. The two lights intertwined, casting dappled shadows on the wall. Outside, Zurich's night was shrouded in a faint purple mist, and distant Gothic spires stood solemn in the moonlight—silent guardians overlooking a city wrapped in temporal secrets.
Staring at the swaying shadows, Li Xiang suddenly remembered the blurred image from the formation and spoke instinctively: "I could see vague scenes through the table's formation earlier. Why use this method instead?"
Valerie turned to him, her dark purple eyes deepening, her tone brimming with unshakable caution: "Activating the formation leaves intense runic vibrations—like lighting a torch in the dark. It would easily be detected by the Elder Council's spies, exposing your whereabouts. We cannot take any risks." She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, her palm's coolness seeping through his clothes. "Now, focus. Feel the heat in your palm." Her voice turned low and solemn, like reciting an ancient incantation. "That is the resonance between the Li family's blood and the Heisenberg runes—it will let you see the truths of the past, and touch the choices your uncle made."
Li Xiang obeyed, closing his eyes and letting the heat spread through his body. It intensified, as if his soul were being wrenched from his flesh. In his mind, the vague image from the formation sharpened suddenly: the Hangzhou Archaeological Institute in 2025, under cold white lights, the younger Li Haoran leaning over the sarcophagus, his palm pressed against its star-shaped rune—his birthmark aligning perfectly, glowing with the same azure radiance. The sarcophagus's surface was unusually smooth, with traces of uncleaned soil lingering in the runes' grooves, its cold glow reflecting off the laboratory's metal instruments.
"Director! The carbon-14 results are in—the sarcophagus spans the Middle Ages and modern times. It defies all archaeological logic!" A young colleague rushed in, holding a report that trembled in his hand, his voice filled with shock. Several other colleagues stood around the sarcophagus, their faces a mix of curiosity and awe, none daring to touch the eerie artifact.
Li Haoran did not turn around, his gaze fixed intently on the runes, his fingertips brushing their lines as if conversing with an ancient power: "This sarcophagus is no artifact—it is a 'gate,' a passage connecting two worlds." He pulled a sheepskin notebook from his lab coat pocket—the Guide Codex that Li Xiang had found in Hangzhou—and flipped to the first page, where the words "Time is not a line, but a well" glimmered in the light.
Suddenly, the runes on the sarcophagus flowed like living serpents, their azure glow writhing across the surface. The laboratory's temperature plummeted, and the cold white lights flickered as if disrupted by an unseen force. A faint scent of aged ink filled the air, as if time and space had merged in that instant. Li Haoran's colleague shouted in alarm: "Director, step back! The sarcophagus is glowing!"
Li Haoran stood his ground, pressing his palm more firmly against the star-shaped rune, his eyes resolute and responsible. His voice rose sharply, carrying an unyielding command: "The sarcophagus's reaction is out of control! No one can predict what will happen next!" His knuckles whitened with exertion, yet he clung tightly to the runes. "Evacuate the laboratory immediately—go! The danger here is beyond what you can bear! As director, I must stay to uncover the runes' secrets—it is my duty!"
Li Xiang's perspective shifted abruptly, switching from observer to Li Haoran's own eyes. He felt the sarcophagus's powerful suction, as if an invisible hand were pulling at his soul. He heard his colleagues' cries and their attempts to pull him back, felt the laboratory floor shake, and saw his own (Li Haoran's) fingers whitening as they dug into the sarcophagus's grooves. "Let go! Don't let more people suffer!" Li Haoran's voice exploded in his mind—resolute yet sorrowful, perfectly echoing the emotion in the notebook's words. In an instant, Li Xiang understood the struggle and courage his uncle had faced.
The temporal echo shattered abruptly. Li Xiang gasped awake, his forehead covered in cold sweat, his back soaking through his pajamas. He found himself still in the Zurich hotel room, Valerie supporting his arm, her eyes filled with concern, her fingertips' coolness grounding him. "Did you see it?"
"I saw the moment my uncle crossed over." Li Xiang's voice trembled, his palms clammy with sweat. "The sarcophagus is a temporal anchor, his birthmark a key… but what about me? What is this purple-eyed mark? Why does it resonate with my uncle's birthmark?" He brushed the corner of his eye, feeling the faint purple halo—thin as a veil, yet brimming with immense power.
Valerie did not answer directly, only pointing outside: "Look there." Li Xiang followed her gaze to the Zurich night sky, where a faint blue-purple band of light stretched across the heavens—like a ribbon spanning time, identical to the "temporal rift" he had seen on the plane. Its end seemed to connect to the distant Black Forest, exuding an aura of mystery and danger. "That is the trace of temporal resonance. Your uncle opened the rift, and every action you take now ripples across past and future—like a stone dropped into a lake, its waves spreading endlessly."
She paused, her tone growing solemn: "Your purple-eyed mark is the 'echo of the blood pact.' When your uncle forged the pact with Catherine, the power of their blood transcended time, branding itself upon you. You are not just an heir seeking truth—you are the key to breaking the Elder Council's dark rule. They want to destroy you because you can weave past and future together, shattering the order they have maintained for centuries."
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## Scene 4: The Link of Fate—Two Ends of the Rift
Li Xiang pulled the two codices from his backpack. The Execution Codex's title page flipped open on its own, revealing a new line of red ink—fresh as if written moments before, as if someone had inscribed it across time: "In the cave of Novaria lies the other half of the blood pact—the blood crystal left by Catherine's mother. It will stabilize your purple-eyed power and let you see the full story between her and me. The Elder Council has laid traps around the cave. Remember, only 'kindred blood' can break them. Trust no stranger's allure."
"Is this… my uncle's handwriting?" Li Xiang stared in shock. He was certain the line had not been there before. The strokes and strength matched the letter perfectly—Li Haoran's distinctive neat, resolute script—as if his uncle stood beside him, writing the warning with his own hand.
"It is him, yet not him." Valerie's eyes held reverence for the mysteries of time. "Time is a well—past, present, and future weave together, no absolute order. The message he wrote in 2025, bound by the blood pact and runic resonance, reveals itself to you now. Like the sarcophagus's runes, it requires the right moment and kindred blood to activate. This line is a guide tailored for you." She walked to the table, picking up Li Xiang's Black Forest map, and pointed to Novaria. "Here lies not only the blood pact crystal but also the rest of your uncle's clues—the truth of the 'Source of Holy Blood,' and the dark history the Elder Council seeks to hide."
At that moment, the hotel phone rang sharply, shattering the room's tension in the silent night. Li Xiang stared at it for two seconds before answering—Sabina's voice, soft as cotton, yet tinged with faint urgency: "Good morning, Mr. Li. A gentleman claiming to be from the Heisenberg Foundation asked me to pass along a message: 'The well is open—time to depart.' Additionally, a black car is waiting for you downstairs, license plate HS-1943."
Li Xiang hung up, looking at Valerie. She nodded, her eyes filled with encouragement: "This is the Foundation's arrangement. They will take you to the Black Forest's edge, avoiding the Elder Council's spies. Remember, once inside the cave, no matter what illusions you see, never let go of the codices—they carry the power of the Li family and the House of Heisenberg, shielding you from the Elder Council's dark magic. When you meet Catherine, tell her 'Valerie still guards the promise.' It is our code—she will know you are trustworthy." With that, her form faded into transparency, merging with the night, leaving only the scent of cedar and ore lingering in the air—as if bidding him farewell.
Li Xiang packed his backpack, clutching the codices tightly to his chest. The winged emblem scar on his palm resonated continuously with the emblems on the spines, a warm current spreading through his body, dispelling his unease. He walked to the window, taking one last look at Zurich's night sky. The blue-purple band of light grew clearer, as if guiding him toward a fated encounter. The hotel lights flickered briefly, casting twisted shadows on the wall—as if countless eyes watched him from the dark, filled with anticipation and scrutiny.
Meanwhile, on the other end of the temporal rift—the Hangzhou Archaeological Institute on July 15, 2025. The moment Li Haoran was swallowed by the temporal vortex, the sarcophagus's azure runes erupted in blinding light, forming a straight line with the blue-purple band over Zurich—as if a bridge spanning time, binding the two eras tightly. As he spun wildly, he caught a glimpse of a faint purple figure waiting at the vortex's end, her purple eyes shining like stars in the Black Forest's depths—it was Catherine, standing on the other side of fate, waiting to meet him, waiting to seal the blood pact. From the vortex, Li Haoran's Guide Codex flew out, its pages fluttering, a strand of black hair tucked inside drifting toward the depths, tangling with Catherine's locks—a silent witness to their bond.
Li Xiang slung his backpack over his shoulder and left the room. As the elevator descended, he stared at his reflection in the metal doors, his purple-eyed halo clear. Suddenly, he understood the words in his uncle's notebook: "Time is not a line, but a well. Only by jumping in can you see the true sky." In the elevator's reflective surface, he seemed to see the younger Li Haoran's figure overlapping with his own—as if the fates of two generations converged at that moment, their mission passed on.
The black car pulled away from downtown Zurich, speeding toward the Black Forest. Outside the window, night grew denser, the Gothic silhouette of the forest sharpening in the moonlight—like a dormant beast waiting for the heir's arrival, waiting to reveal its secrets. There was no driver; the steering wheel turned on its own, the dashboard's needle pointing steadily toward Novaria, glowing with a faint blue light—as if guided by some mysterious force. Li Xiang leaned back in his seat, holding the codices tightly, feeling the resonance in his palm and the bracelet's coolness. His heart was a mix of resolve and trepidation. He knew what awaited him ahead: unknown dangers, long-buried truths, and a fated showdown spanning time.
On both ends of the temporal rift, Li Xiang's journey and Li Haoran's crossing finally linked perfectly. Guided by the blood pact, the gears of fate began to turn once more—carrying ancient secrets, love that transcended time, and the courage and perseverance of two generations—marching slowly toward the depths of the Black Forest, toward the land that held all truths.