Cael didn't remember reaching the rooftop.
His legs moved on instinct long after his mind shut down.
Up the rusted stairs.
Through broken doors.
Across cracked concrete.
Until the city stretched below him like a dying machine.
He collapsed near the edge.
Breathing hard.
Shaking.
"I didn't mean to…"
The words felt useless.
Meaningless.
Because time didn't care about intention.
His wrist burned.
The numbers glowed faintly.
03:12:40:44
Still there.
Still falling.
Still pretending everything was normal.
But the world no longer felt stable.
The sky above the Lower District shimmered.
Subtly.
Wrongly.
Like heat distortion—
Except colder.
He rubbed his eyes.
The distortion remained.
Then—
The sound stopped.
Not faded.
Not muffled.
Gone.
The wind died.
The distant machines fell silent.
Even the hum of the city vanished.
Cael froze.
"I didn't borrow…"
His voice didn't echo.
Didn't carry.
Didn't exist beyond his own ears.
This wasn't his doing.
The air grew heavy.
Not physically.
But conceptually.
Like the world had gained weight.
Then—
Something moved.
Not in front of him.
Not behind him.
But through him.
A shadow passed across reality itself.
And for a brief moment—
The stars appeared in the daytime sky.
Not bright.
Not distant.
Watching.
Cael's breath caught.
Because he understood—
Without knowing how—
That they weren't stars.
They were eyes.
Ancient.
Still.
Endless.
Looking down.
The whisper returned.
But it was no longer soft.
No longer kind.
No longer his.
"You took what was not given."
The voice didn't come from inside his head.
It came from everywhere.
The sky cracked.
Just slightly.
Like glass under pressure.
"You moved when the river stood still."
His chest tightened.
"I had to."
Silence followed.
Heavy.
Judging.
Then—
"All who borrow are noticed."
The air warped.
Time bent around him.
Not freezing.
Not slowing.
Watching.
He felt it now.
Something vast.
Something patient.
Something older than the Empire.
Older than the cities.
Older than the system itself.
Something that did not rule time—
But observed it.
The stars shifted.
Aligning.
Focusing.
On him.
Fear unlike anything he had known crawled up his spine.
Not fear of death.
But fear of being… recorded.
Of being written down somewhere permanent.
"Who are you?" he whispered.
The answer came without sound.
A concept.
A knowing.
A truth too large for language.
We are what remains when time ends.
His pulse pounded.
We do not punish.
The rooftop trembled.
We remember.
The words settled into him like cold iron.
Because suddenly—
He understood the true cost.
Borrowing didn't just erase memories from him.
It marked him.
Tracked him.
Documented him.
Every stolen second wasn't just theft.
It was a signal.
And something beyond reality—
Was listening.
The sky sealed.
The wind returned.
The city breathed again.
Cael fell forward onto his hands.
Gasping.
Above his wrist—
The numbers glitched.
For a moment—
They showed something new.
A second counter.
Not counting down.
Counting up.
00:00:02
Two seconds.
Borrowed.
Recorded.
Remembered.
And somewhere—
Beyond time—
Something had begun to wait.