Alven didn't sleep that night.
After the video from his mother ended, he remained sitting on the floor of his room for hours, staring at the terminal screen that had gone dark again. Outside the window, Nexara still glowed as usual—streams of floating vehicle lights moved in orderly lines between towering buildings, holographic billboards cast neon colors into the artificial sky, and patrol drones occasionally passed in the city's cold silence. But for Alven, all of it felt distant, like a world that kept moving without knowing that inside that small room, someone's life had just completely changed direction.
His mother had lived in fear before disappearing.
His father was not a traitor.
And the Chronolocket, which once felt like an answer, had only opened more doors to something far greater—and darker.
Alven lowered his gaze to the necklace in his palm. The small clock-shaped pendant now looked plain, too calm for an object that had unraveled his life in a single day. He tried to suppress the urge to use it again. His mother's warning still echoed clearly in his mind: every use would demand a price.
Yet that was exactly what made him more uneasy. If everything Mira said was true, then there were people searching for this object. People who knew what the Chronolocket was. People who might have already been watching him even before he realized there was something his family had hidden from him.
At three in the morning, Alven finally stood up. He packed the terminal, the data chip, and the Chronolocket into his bag and secured it tightly. For the first time since his mother disappeared, the room no longer felt safe. Too much had been revealed. Too much might already be listening.
He only managed to close his eyes for about an hour before his morning alarm rang.
The next day arrived under a pale bluish sky and colder air than usual. Morning news broadcasts were filled with reports about the energy disruption at Nexara campus, though authorities described it merely as a "limited technical failure" that had already been contained. There was no explanation about the flickering screens, no mention of the emergency speaker referencing the twelve-hour protocol, and certainly not a single word about fractured time.
Everything was neatly packaged.
Everything made to look normal.
When Alven came down to the kitchen, his uncle was already sitting at the table with a cup of coffee untouched before him. The man looked more exhausted than the night before.
"You're still going to campus?" he asked as soon as Alven appeared.
"I have to."
"After what happened yesterday?"
"Because of what happened yesterday."
Ardi rubbed his face slowly. "I know you want answers, but don't be reckless."
Alven stopped near the dining table. "You already know the Chronolocket can activate, you know Mom was involved in something bigger, you know Dad isn't a traitor, and you still tell me to stay quiet. How am I supposed to not be reckless?"
His uncle fell silent. There was something in his eyes—guilt, perhaps, or fear that had been held in too long.
"I'm not your enemy, Alven," he said quietly.
"I want to believe that."
The words came out colder than intended. For a moment, Ardi's expression shifted as if struck by something he couldn't respond to. But Alven didn't take it back. He no longer had the luxury of comforting others while his own life was collapsing from within.
"I'll be back this afternoon," he said shortly, then picked up his bag.
Before he could turn away, his uncle added, "If a stranger approaches you today, don't answer too much."
Alven turned quickly. "What do you mean?"
But Ardi only lowered his gaze to his coffee, as if regretting the words that had slipped out. "I mean… be careful."
A chill ran down Alven's spine. He didn't ask further. There was no point. But from the moment he left the house, that sentence followed him like a shadow.
The campus felt quieter than usual.
Several areas around the central plaza were still sealed off with transparent security barriers. The energy tower at the center was covered with temporary repair panels, while technical drones hovered around it. Students still came, but their steps were slower, their voices lower—as if the entire campus had silently agreed that something unexplainable had happened.
As soon as he passed through the main gate, Alven immediately looked for Lica.
He found her near the vertical garden on the east side of the main building, standing alone while looking at her tablet. When she saw him approaching, she lifted her head. Her expression shifted instantly from calm to a mix of relief and irritation she didn't bother hiding.
"You only replied to my message this morning."
"I… fell asleep."
"That's a bad lie."
Alven stopped in front of her. For a moment, he simply looked at her face, making sure once again that Lica was really here—breathing, whole, not covered in dust and blood like the image that had haunted him since two days ago.
Lica crossed her arms. "Are you going to keep staring at me like that or start talking?"
"I just want to make sure you're okay."
Her expression softened slightly. "I'm fine. You're the one who's not."
"I'm fine."
"Alven."
That single word made his small lie sound fragile.
Lica stepped closer. "Since yesterday, you've looked like someone running from something only you can see. I won't force you to explain now, but stop making me feel like you're going to disappear at any moment."
The words pressed against something in Alven's chest. He wanted to answer, wanted to say that that was exactly what he feared—not only that Lica could disappear, but that he himself could slowly vanish every time the Chronolocket activated. But before he could find the right words, the information screen beside the building flickered.
Just for a fraction of a second.
Too quick for anyone else to notice.
But Alven saw it.
And at the same time, the Chronolocket in his bag suddenly felt cold.
He tensed.
Lica noticed immediately. "What now?"
Alven glanced around. The campus looked normal. Students passed by, some sat on the steps, class announcements echoed from the speakers. But a strange feeling crept in—a sense that he was being watched.
Not by one person.
More like by something that already knew exactly where he stood.
"I need to go to the archive," he said suddenly.
"Now?"
"I need to check something."
"I'm coming with you."
"No—"
"Don't say no." Lica looked at him sharply. "Yesterday I listened when you told me not to go to the plaza. Today it's my turn. I'm coming."
Alven opened his mouth to refuse, then closed it again. Leaving Lica alone felt even more dangerous.
"Fine," he said quietly.
They walked toward the west wing of the campus, where the digital archive room was located. The corridors there were quieter than the rest of the building. As they got closer, the cold sensation along Alven's spine grew stronger. He didn't know if it was instinct, lingering trauma, or the Chronolocket reacting to something nearby—but his body was clearly warning him.
The archive door slid open automatically as they approached.
Inside, the room was nearly empty. Only the low hum of data storage units and the pale white glow of terminal screens filled the space. Alven went straight to the terminal he had used the day before. Lica stood beside him, watching silently as he entered basic access codes and opened the system logs.
The file was gone.
REWIND_12H_PROTOCOL was not there.
As if it had never existed.
"What are you looking for?" Lica asked quietly.
"Something that appeared yesterday before the alarm."
"And now it's gone?"
Alven shook his head.
He tried another search. Project Rewind. Mira Ardian. Satria Ardian. Everything remained locked, restricted, or nonexistent. His fingers moved faster, frustration and panic making his breathing uneven. He knew what he saw yesterday was real. He knew the speakers in this room had broadcast something. Someone must have erased it.
Or someone had never intended for him to see further.
Suddenly, the archive door opened again.
Alven turned.
A man stood at the doorway.
He looked to be in his mid-twenties, slightly older than a typical student. Tall, broad-shouldered, wearing a simple dark coat with no institutional markings. His black hair was neatly styled, his face too calm for someone entering an unfamiliar room. His gaze was fixed directly on Alven—cold, sharp, as if he already knew exactly who he was looking for.
Lica stiffened beside him. "Sorry, this room is currently in use—"
"Alven Raka Ardian," the man cut in, as if Lica didn't exist.
The atmosphere in the room shifted instantly.
At that exact moment, the Chronolocket in Alven's bag ticked.
Tick.
The man stepped inside. "You don't have much time. Give me the object."
Alven's breath caught. "What?"
"The Chronolocket."
The name sounded strange and dangerous coming from a stranger's mouth.
Lica looked between them. "Who are you?"
But the man kept his gaze on Alven, and now something darker appeared in his eyes—not hatred, but a cold certainty.
"If you keep it," he said, "this city won't be the only thing that falls apart. And the first person you won't be able to save anymore is the girl beside you."
Alven immediately moved in front of Lica, instinctively protective.
"Don't mention her."
For the first time, the man's expression shifted slightly. There was a faint trace of exhaustion, as if he had seen this moment before and already knew how it ended.
"I'm not here to hurt her," he said. "I'm here to stop you before it's too late."
Before Alven could respond, the archive lights flickered violently.
Once.
Twice.
Then every terminal screen turned red at the same time.
A sharp static noise filled the speakers, followed by a flash of blue light from inside Alven's bag. The Chronolocket activated on its own, releasing a pulse that made the air around them tighten.
The stranger stepped forward quickly. "Now! Give it to me!"
Alven reacted on instinct. He grabbed Lica's hand and stepped back—once, then twice—putting distance between them and the man.
"Alven," Lica whispered, her voice trembling. "What's happening?"
He didn't answer.
Because truthfully, he didn't know either.
The only thing he knew was this: the stranger knew the Chronolocket, knew his name, and knew Lica. That meant the threat his mother had warned about had finally arrived.
And if the man truly came from the future—as his gaze and words seemed to imply—then how terrifying must that future be for someone to hunt him down now?
And if, to save Lica, he had to run from the only person who might know the truth… would he still be able to tell who was the enemy, who was the savior, and which losses were no longer his to fight against?