The Watchmaker's Will"
The Final Reset
The sprint across the distorted promenade of the Ridge felt like running through a nightmare made of liquid glass and shattered mirrors. Every step forward required a conscious effort of will, as the very ground beneath Anaya’s boots seemed to stretch and compress with the erratic pulse of the dying timeline. The sky above had deepened from its initial bruised crimson into a violent, churning void of absolute black and neon violet, torn apart by silent arcs of static electricity. There were no stars anymore—only the massive, interlocking geometric rings of the temporal rift spinning across the heavens, grinding against the fabric of reality with a sound that reverberated deep