Chrono's Curse

The road stretched ahead, cracked and broken, the once-smooth stone now split by time and war. Jagged weeds curled through the gaps, defying the ruin left in the wake of battle. The sky above was a dusky gray, the last traces of daylight bleeding into the horizon like a wound that refused to close.

Alpha walked with steady steps, his body sore but his mind sharp. The boy trailed beside him, no longer clinging to his shadow but walking in stride—determined, though his small legs had to push harder to keep up.

Alpha slowed his pace slightly, pretending not to notice.

The boy glanced up at him. "Where are we going?"

Alpha exhaled, keeping his eyes on the path ahead. "Away from here."

The boy scowled. "That's not an answer."

Alpha smirked faintly. "It's the only one I've got."

The boy huffed but didn't argue.

The ruins of a village loomed in the distance, its skeletal remains stark against the dying light.

Unlike the shattered cities they had passed before, this place had been small. A settlement, perhaps—farmers, traders, people who had never expected to be caught in the storm of war. And yet, the evidence of their destruction was clear.

The houses were nothing but blackened husks, their wooden beams reduced to brittle embers. The earth was scorched, as if fire had not merely passed through but had lingered, devouring everything.

The wind howled through the hollow remains of homes, carrying the scent of long-dead embers and something colder—something that smelled of loss.

The boy stopped. His fingers curled into fists at his sides.

Alpha watched him carefully.

"You don't have to go in," Alpha said quietly.

The boy swallowed hard but squared his shoulders. "I do."

They walked in silence through the ruins. There was no life here, no bodies, only the echoes of those who had once stood where they now stood.

The boy stopped beside a well, his fingers brushing the crumbling stone. He traced the cracks with absent precision, his gaze distant.

Alpha said nothing.

"This was a home once," the boy whispered.

Alpha nodded.

The boy exhaled slowly, as if pushing out something heavier than air. Then he turned away from the well and did not look back.

They left the village behind.

The road stretched before them, quiet except for the distant whisper of the wind. The boy walked a little closer now, no longer leaving space between them.

Alpha felt the shift before he saw it.

A presence.

His hand hovered near Vanitas, his fingers grazing the hilt.

The boy noticed his sudden tension. "What is it?"

Alpha didn't answer.

Ahead, a figure stood at the edge of the road, draped in a tattered cloak that billowed slightly in the breeze. The fabric was worn, frayed at the edges, but beneath it, glimpses of armor gleamed in the fading light.

They were waiting.

Alpha slowed, then stopped. The boy hesitated but followed suit.

For a long moment, the figure did not move.

Then, they tilted their head slightly. "That sword does not belong to you."

Their voice was smooth, edged with something unreadable.

Alpha's grip tightened. "That's not for you to decide."

The figure took a slow step forward. "No. But it is for it to decide."

Their gaze flickered to Vanitas. The air around them felt heavier, as if something unseen had begun to stir.

The figure chuckled, a sound that held neither mirth nor malice—only curiosity. "I see. It hasn't spoken to you yet."

Alpha felt the familiar pulse of Vanitas against his palm, cold and knowing.

The stranger exhaled. "How unfortunate."

Alpha tensed. "Who are you?"

The figure raised a gloved hand and pulled back their hood.

A woman. Pale, her sharp features framed by silver-white hair that caught the dying light. But it was her eyes that struck Alpha first—dark, deep, and too knowing, as if they held something vast and old beneath their surface.

She smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.

"You may call me Selene."

The boy shifted uncomfortably. His small fingers curled into the fabric of Alpha's sleeve.

Selene's gaze flickered to him, her expression unreadable. "Ah. You've taken in a stray."

Her tone was neutral, yet something about it made Alpha bristle.

"State your business," Alpha said flatly.

Selene exhaled, amused. "Straight to the point. I appreciate that." She took another slow step forward, her hands visible—non-threatening, but deliberate. "I am here because of the sword."

Alpha didn't move.

Selene tilted her head slightly. "You wield it, but you do not understand it. That makes you dangerous."

"Or it makes me careful."

Selene's smile widened slightly. "No. It makes you ignorant."

The weight in the air thickened. The boy inched closer to Alpha, his breath shallow.

Alpha's patience thinned. "If you came for the sword, you're wasting your time."

Selene hummed, her expression thoughtful. "Not quite. If I wanted to take it, I would have already tried."

Something about the way she said it told Alpha it wasn't a boast.

She watched him for a moment longer, then turned slightly, gazing down the road. "This path leads to the city of Elaris. You should avoid it."

Alpha frowned. "Why?"

Selene's expression darkened. "Because something is waiting there. And I have a feeling that it wants you to find it."

The cold pulse of Vanitas pressed against his palm again.

Selene turned away. "I've done my part. Whether you listen is up to you."

She stepped off the road, vanishing into the shadows.

The boy exhaled slowly. "…I don't like her."

Alpha wasn't sure if he did either.

But he did know one thing.

Whatever waited in Elaris, it would not wait forever.