The Watchers of Time · Chen Qingyang

Chapter 1 When the Pages Glitter

On a winter evening, the leaden sky pressed low above the academy library. A breeze slipped through old stone bricks, carrying a stale chill. The cellar-level air was always tinged with musty pages and cracked ink—an aroma Aaron had grown used to, much like the contradiction in history: it never speaks, yet speaks volumes in silence.

He piled old tomes on the long table, flipping through one by one, his gaze intent like an astrologer studying ancient star charts. He sought evidence of some lost dynasty’s era—until his fingertip brushed against a cold, untitled book.

It lay hidden on an unnumbered shelf, its cover forged from graphite and metal, and bore a fine line resembling a scratch of time. Aaron opened it, curiosity piqued.

Page one blank. On page two, words suddenly appeared as though time itself wrote them:

“When the Third Epoch collapses, civilization will fall and languages will recombine. At New Year Zero, humanity loses the names of past and future.”

Aaron’s hand froze.
That wasnt the past—it was the future.
He flipped rapidly, growing more frightened with each page. The book specified dates and locations, even detailing upcoming space colonization projects and neural data technologies yet to be launched.

“This… this is impossible…” he murmured, throat dry.
His breath faltered, his fingers trembled. As he moved to close the book, a page flared with light—white flame like frost flowing out through the book’s spine, filling the entire cellar.

Bookshelves blurred; time felt frozen. Aaron’s hand hovered in midair. Before he could speak, light gathered above the book.

A woman’s figure.

She wore a silvery gray robe, her long black hair falling by her shoulders. Her eyes were like stars—cold, devoid of emotion. Her feet didn’t touch the ground, but she moved with lunar grace.

Aaron stood rooted, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He couldn’t hear his own voice—only her presence.

She parted her lips:

“Aaron Thorne, time has chosen you.”

“Wh—who are you?” Aaron managed, stepping back. His ankle caught a chair leg with a dull thud.

The woman stepped forward; her voice rang clear like a bell in the air.

“I am Lina, the Time Witch. That book in your hands—is not prophecy, but chronicle. The future has already happened; you must bear witness.”

Aaron asked, “A book of the future? Then why… why is it here? I’m only a historian—”

“You are not ordinary,” Lina cut in, her eyes sharp as ice. “You are the destined Watcher, a traveler chosen by time. You must join me to mend the fractures, to prevent the collapse of the future.”

Aaron’s throat tightened. He wanted to protest: he was only a historian, a speaker of the past, not an enemy of the future. Yet the book hovered in midair, pages turning on their own—as though history were rewinding and time writing another path.

Lina raised a silver hourglass; glowing sand flowed upward, igniting silver threads in the air above. Above them, a blue-white tear opened in the ceiling—an entryway into the corridor of time.

She extended her hand: “Come with me, Aaron. Step between times. You still have a choice—now.”

Aaron stared at her hand—it seemed ordinary, but it felt capable of pulling him from the world. His heart thundered; his soul compelled.

He drew in a breath and tentatively grasped her fingertip.

“Then… let it begin right now.”

Silver light wrapped around them; the pages stilled, and the book fell closed to the ground.

Chapter 2 The Gateway of Time

The silver glow wasn’t just light—it was movement: like the soul separating from flesh, or memory flashing before extinguishing.

Aaron felt gravity vanish; his body suspended on an endless wave. He could no longer see himself—but felt himself dismantling, compressing, and… reassembling.

Wind roared around, without a trace of cold.

“Where is… this?” he whispered, voice like a bubble in water.

Lina’s voice came from every direction—echoing, or speaking directly inside his mind:

“This is the Time Corridor. Not space, not past nor future—but the gateway to everything.”

Slowly, a silvery-white corridor appeared, suspended in a void. The floor shimmered like woven starlight. Walls were masked with gates—each inscribed with flickering text: ancient inscriptions, future scripts, languages he’d never seen.

“Each gate is a historical inflection point,” Lina explained. “If a fracture widens, the order of gates collapses—history becomes entangled, causality reverses. The world as you know it will cease to exist.”

Aaron gazed at one gate—inside, a scene from a Roman amphitheater. A futuristic helicopter hovered overhead, dropping bombs. Gladiators fought robots.

“This—is a time anomaly?” Aaron asked softly.

Lina nodded. “It’s an early-stage divergence. Our mission is to enter and mend the fracture, restore temporal stability.”

She walked to the gate, touching its glowing script. A circular time-insignia appeared in her palm. The gate swung open, light flowing out.

“Wait!” Aaron called, grabbing her arm.

“What if I fail?” he said. “I’m no warrior—I’m not even an adventurer…I’ve only studied history.”

Lina turned, her expression unusually gentle.

“History is not just wars and heroes—it is memory and choice. You belong here more than you realize.”

She stepped through—and vanished beyond the light. Aaron took a deep breath, clenching his jaw, and stepped after her.

Chapter 3 Echoes in the Time Shards

Aaron landed, not on solid ground, but fine, glimmering sand that seemed to hold memory. He looked down and saw each grain etched with blurred script.

“This is…?” he whispered—no Lina in sight.

Ahead, a city wall emerged in the fog. Bell chimes, fractured, drifted through the wind. Step by step, Aaron entered this displaced time-space—when an icy chill raced up his spine:

A child in ancient attire crouched by the wall, drawing—only, not homes or people, but a depiction of Aaron standing here, eyes wide with fear.

“How do you… know me?” Aaron began—but the child turned. His eyes were silver-white whirlpools—the eyes of time.

In that instant, reality collapsed as ink waves, and Aaron fell into the vortex—Lina’s voice in his ear:

“Be careful—that’s not the future of memory; it’s the ruins of the future… You are entering a Time Shard!”

Chapter 4 Victor’s Birthday

He fell into a world without sky: fractured walls, floating clock towers, suspended pages. The air felt frozen yet trembled. Each step cracked glass underfoot, revealing eras flipped beneath.

This was Time Shard Island—fragments left uncured, spurned by time’s essence.

“Aaron?” he called out—but only echoes responded.

Soft sand sounds drifted. He followed them, crossing floating rails, pushing through a semi-melted glass door. Inside, sat a girl-like figure in an oversized academic robe, clutching a yellowed book.

Her back reminded him of Lina—until she turned, her features blurred by wind. But her voice was clear as water.

“I’m not Lina, but I remember you calling her that name.” She closed the book. “This is a page from your memory, not from here.”

Aaron froze. “Who… are you?”

She rose, pages lifting and swirling into points of light.

“I am the Echo of a Time Shard. You fell here because you hesitated—you doubted your own fate.”

Aaron felt time inhale. He saw his multiple selves projected in the air: flipping through books, holding Lina’s hand, saying “I’m just a historian”—then hundreds of versions mutated, some fleeing, some dead, some becoming Victor.

“Are these… me?” he gasped.

“Every possibility you were before choosing,” she replied.

It wasn’t hallucination—it was time echoing his fracturing identity.

“If I cannot mend time… will I become him? Become Victor?”

She replied not in words, but handed him a ragged Time Journal. On one page was the sentence:

“When memory begins to forget, history can no longer guarantee justice.”

Aaron felt the book warm in his hands. The figure blurred into shards of time.

Suddenly the air vibrated. Silver light flashed. Lina appeared, slicing through floating machinery with her sword.

“You’re okay?” she asked breathlessly.

Aaron nodded, clutching the time journal with renewed resolve.

“We’re not just repairing time. We’re remembering what time attempts to erase.”

Lina looked at him with approval in her eyes.

“Good. This is your first trial through the gate. Remember this: time is not a machine—it is a fragile collection of memory.”

They exited the shattered realm behind them. The shards collapsed like a dream finally laid to rest. Ahead, the silver corridor reopened—leading to the next Fracture Gate—

One that marks Victors first appearance in history—and the future Aaron fears most: his own.

Chapter 5: The Book of Judgment
Beyond the 97th gate of the Time Corridor, the path abruptly shattered.
Aaron and Lina arrived in a space without up or down, left or right—like a folded kaleidoscope. Every corner reflected fragmented versions of history: the night Paris burned, the shadow of the falling moon, the silhouette of a mother weeping underwater… and countless encounters between him and Lina, infinitely extending like mirrored reflections.

“Where are we?” Aaron whispered.
“This is the Interstice,” Lina replied, her tone unusually somber.
“To be precise—this is the world of the Timebreakers.”

The surrounding walls were formed of spiral-like characters that glowed without illumination. Aaron was led to a tribunal-like space where three vague figures appeared, their voices layered and overlapping:
“Aaron Thorn, Time Disturber, Historical Intervener, Duplicator of Futures… do you admit to having touched the laws of Primordial Time?”

Aaron instinctively looked at Lina, only to find she was no longer beside him—she stood on the opposite side of the tribunal.

“Why are you over there?”
“I was summoned to be judged as well,” Lina said coldly.
“You never told me... you crossed the base layer of time and connected to your past self.”

The tribunal voice turned to her.
Aaron’s eyes widened. For the first time, Lina felt unreachable.
“What history did you alter?” he asked.

She was silent for a moment.
“I tried to save a dying world… my homeland. That time, I wrote a page in the Book of Judgment. As a result, my world was entirely erased by the Time Order—leaving only me.”
Her voice held no regret, only a calm cruelty.
“I am not the guardian of time—I am its remnant.”

A silver-gray book was presented. Its cover was blank, pulsing like a living heart.
“Write down the piece of history you most wish to remember and are willing to bear. Judgment will determine whether you are restorers—or distorters.”

Lina wrote first.
She recorded her last night with her mother before time collapsed: they sat in a darkened street corner, listening to an old lullaby on the radio. Her mother embraced her and whispered:
“Don’t be afraid, Lina. If everything is erased, I want you to remember that melody.”

Aaron did not write about war or death. Instead, he recalled the moment Lina first appeared to him, when she said:
“You didn’t find the book. The book chose you.”

The book’s pages turned on their own. After reading their memories, words appeared on the glowing walls:
“Lina Isoca—guilt of memory, born of emotional choice—preserved, not destroyed.”
“Aaron Thorn—no original sin, yet bearer of chosen memory—may become an architect of new order.”

Lina lowered her head, murmuring:
“You… you wrote about me. You should’ve chosen to save history, not me.”
Aaron looked at her without blame.
“Because you are my history.”
“If memory exists not to choose people but merely to maintain order, then it deserves to be unraveled and rewritten.”

A new artifact appeared—the Sword of Time. Only one person could wield it. Whoever it pointed to could choose: to preserve or erase a segment of temporal memory.
“You have one chance. Choose one memory: erase it—or write it.”

Lina approached the sword, but Aaron stopped her.
“Neither of us should wield it.”
“Why?”
“Because too many live only through their memories. If we become the choosers, those small lights will be extinguished again.”

He turned to the tribunal:
“I refuse to write. I choose to let all histories have a chance to remain.”

Silence.
Then the walls lit up:
“Restorers confirmed—Aaron Thorn and Lina Isoca shall become the Twin Sentinels of the New Watch.”

Lina murmured a soft smile: “You finally made a choice.”
“No,” Aaron held her hand. “I just don’t want to lose you again.”

As they were released, a golden circular door opened behind the tribunal.
Inside, a little girl sat, holding a book identical to the Book of Judgment.
She turned around, revealing a face strange yet familiar.
“You thought judgment was over?”
Her voice was almost identical to Lina’s.
“No. It’s only just begun.”

Chapter 6: The Name of Echo
Beyond the golden door was not a room, but a silent memory field.
The ground was made of memory fragments, like unbloomed lines of poetry. The sky hung low, stretched like a flattened timeline. All light was softened—leaving only the truth of presence. There was no past, no future. Only now.

Lina walked slowly behind Aaron. The girl remained on a floating time stone, feet swinging, eyes on her book.
Each page turn sounded like wind chimes—not metal, but the resonance of memories breaking and rejoining. A sound one could hear, but not describe.

Aaron stepped forward.
“Who are you?”
The girl looked up with a smile, as if recalling something.
“I am the page Lina wrote.”
Aaron froze.
Lina stepped back, eyes trembling.
“…Impossible.”
The girl closed the book and stood.

“When you first broke the time laws and wrote your mother’s final words—the lullaby—into the Book of Judgment, time couldn’t allow you to take the memory with you. So it split the memory off, and made me.”
She approached Lina and touched her forehead.
“I am not your daughter. Nor are you me. I’m the echo you chose to keep.”
Lina was speechless.
Aaron understood now—every déjà vu, every moment of strange familiarity with her, had a deeper root.

The girl pointed skyward.
A silver screen unfolded, playing a scene Lina had never told Aaron:
A future disaster, deleted from the timeline. A vanishing era. Lina stood in the stormy streets, slipping a recording into a time page, whispering:
“If one day I cease to exist, return this voice to him.”

The face in the recording was indistinct—but Aaron’s began to emerge.
“Why did she…” he choked.
“Because she always remembered you.”

The girl drew out the final page of the book and handed it to him.
It was blank, marked only “Naming Area.”

“If you write my name, I’ll become real.”
Lina gasped: “No! You can’t—it’s a trap!”
The girl whispered:
“If he doesn’t name me, I cannot exist. If he does, I’ll enter reality—no longer a memory.”
“And you, Aaron, will—for the first time—create.”

Aaron’s hands trembled as he held the pen—not metal, but formed of compressed memories. Its tip reflected the first time he met Lina.
His moment of pity toward young Victor.
His smile when he refused to wield the Sword of Time.
Each scene was a choice.

“Don’t,” Lina whispered. “You shouldn’t be bound by the power to name.”
Aaron gently shook his head.
“If I can’t even preserve this echo, what do our memories mean?”

He wrote one name in the blank box—
Eléya.
As the stroke landed, the memory field echoed.
The sky shuddered with threads of silver. The girl rose, turning to silver light and merged into Lina’s body.
Lina staggered, tears streaming.
“I… remember now.”
“I didn’t lose everything. That memory I didn’t dare admit—it’s come back.”

Just as they prepared to leave, the Time Corridor shook violently.
A book fell from the sky—The Chronicle of Futures.
It opened itself, revealing one sentence:

“When naming begins, fate reboots.”
“Time is being rewritten.”

Aaron and Lina looked at each other. For the first time, they understood—
They were no longer just restorers.
They had become—constructors.

At the edge of the broken Time Fragment Isle, a lone figure stood in the dust storm.
He caught a glowing fragment and smiled coldly:
“So, you wrote her name after all… Aaron.”
He turned and stepped into another door—
Etched with the words:
∞: Reawakening of Origins.

Chapter 7: ∞: Reawakening of Origins
The fissure in time was like an abyss, devouring all order and law.
Space trembled beneath their feet, as past and future tangled like fraying threads—forming a vast, decaying network on the verge of collapse. Aaron and Lina stood at the brink, hearts pounding, confronted for the first time with Total Temporal Collapse—a chaotic storm beyond reason.

Lina’s lips trembled, yet her eyes burned with resolve.
“Aaron… are we really ready?” she whispered, her voice laced with uncertainty.

Aaron clenched his fists, knuckles pale. The time energy within him burned like fire through his nerves. He took a deep breath, steadying himself.
“There’s no turning back, Lina. This is our battlefield. Destruction may erase everything—but creation… may give it new life.”

Suddenly, the collapse surged like a beast. Shattered fragments exploded beneath them, second-hands of clocks turning into cutting beams. Lina raised her hands, weaving glowing threads—the Time Weave. She tried to reknit the broken fabric with sheer will.

“What power do we use to stop such endless destruction?” Aaron’s voice was low, burdened with helplessness.
Lina closed her eyes. She recalled the temporal ethics and restoration laws from the Timebreakers’ world—their only guiding light.
“Not just to stop—but to choose. Collapse is not only an end. It is also the overture to creation.”

Just then, a dark gate appeared in the void—its shape like the infinity symbol ∞, glowing with a cold, mysterious light.
Their hearts trembled. Behind that gate was a primordial power—the reawakening of origin.

“That’s…” Aaron whispered, shaken.
“∞—infinite possibilities. The crossing point of end and beginning,” Lina said, as if awakening a truth.

They exchanged a look—and stepped forward together.

Behind the gate was a pure void—no time, no space, only a single beam of light… and a deep shadow. The two forces stood in silent opposition.

Light—creation: the seed of hope and future.
Shadow—destruction: the cold erasure of past constraints.
Aaron and Lina stood between, the balance of fate in their hearts.

“Choose, Aaron,” Lina whispered.
His hand trembled, touching the border of light and shadow—warm and cold, like his own inner struggle.
“How do I know what truly matters? Which is the path forward?” he murmured.

The forces tangled—no absolute light or dark. Only co-dependence.

“Maybe…” he finally said,
“Truth lies in embracing both. Only when creation and destruction coexist can time be reborn.”

Lina smiled, nodded.
Together, they fused the forces. Their will closed the fissure. The waves of collapse receded. The ∞ symbol spun gently, whispering—

Origin has restarted.
A new era of time… is being born.


〈時空的守望者〉∕陳清揚

冬日的傍晚，灰藍的天空壓低在學院書館上方，風從老石磚的縫隙中吹入，帶著幾絲過時的寒意。地窖層的空氣總是帶有書頁發霉與油墨乾裂的氣味，而亞倫早已習慣這樣的味道，就像習慣歷史不會說話，卻總在沉默中訴說。

他將舊書堆積在長桌上，一本一本翻閱，目光專注如埋首於古代星圖的占星術士。他正在尋找某段失落王朝的年代證據——直到他的指尖觸及一本封皮冷硬、無標題的書。

它被藏在一列從未編號的架子後方，外殼像是以石墨與金屬融合鑄成，封面沒有字，只有一道宛如時間刻痕的細紋。亞倫狐疑地翻開書頁。

第一頁空白。第二頁，字句突然浮現，如同時間自己正在書寫：

「第三歷時段崩解，文明塌陷，語言重組。新元前零年，人類失去過去與未來之名。」

亞倫的手猛地停住。

那不是過去，那是——未來。

他連翻幾頁，愈看愈驚，愈讀愈寒。書中描述的事件，竟準確標註日期、地點，甚至連尚未啟動的太空殖民計畫和神經資料化技術都被記錄得清清楚楚。

「這……這不可能……」他喃喃說道，喉頭發乾。

他的呼吸開始不穩，指尖顫抖，正欲闔上書本時，某一頁突然發光。亮光如霜白火焰，從書縫中漸次流出，瀰漫至整間地窖。

周圍書架在眼前逐漸模糊，時間彷彿凝固了。亞倫的手停在空中，眼前一片靜默。他還來不及喊出聲，一道光影在書本正上方緩緩凝聚。

那是一名女子的身影。

她穿著銀灰長袍，深黑長髮垂落肩側，雙眼如星辰卻無情緒波動。她的腳未著地，卻輕巧如步於月光。

亞倫僵住，喉結上下移動。他感覺不到自己的聲音，整個世界只剩她的出現。

女子輕啟雙唇：

「亞倫·索恩，時空選擇了你。」

「妳……妳是誰？」亞倫艱難地擠出聲音，往後退了一步，腳踝踢倒椅腳，發出一聲沉悶的咚響。

女子踏前一步，聲音如迴盪於空中的鐘聲，清晰卻不刺耳。

「我是莉娜，時間魔女。你手中的書，是預言書？不，是記錄之書。未來已經發生，只待你目睹。」

亞倫忍不住問：「未來的書？那為什麼……為什麼它會出現在這裡？我只是個研究歷史的人——」

「你不是普通人。」莉娜打斷他，眼神如寒冰之刃。「你是命定的守望者，是時空選中的旅者。你要與我一同修補裂縫，阻止未來的崩解。」

亞倫喉頭發緊。他想說這不是真的，他只是個歷史學家，只會與過去對話，從未想過與未來為敵。可是那本書依然懸浮在空中，書頁自動翻動，彷彿歷史正倒流，而時間正為他寫下另一條路徑。

莉娜舉起一只銀沙漏，沙漏中的光砂逆流而上，點燃空中的一縷縷銀絲。

天花板之上，一道藍白裂口緩緩張開，彷彿天空被劃開，露出時間走廊的銀帶。

她伸出手：「跟我走，亞倫。進入時間之間。你還能選擇，現在。」

亞倫盯著她的手，那隻看起來如常人無異的手，卻似乎能牽引他離開整個世界。他的心臟劇烈跳動，靈魂似乎被這一刻召喚。

他吞下一口氣，終於伸出手，緊握住她的指尖。

「那就……從這一刻開始吧。」

銀光包覆他們的身影，書頁歸於沉寂，只留下一本書緩緩落地，靜靜闔上。

第二章｜時間走廊的門

那道銀光不是一道單純的亮閃，而是一種流動的感覺——像靈魂被抽離肉體，又像記憶在燃燒前的最後一次閃回。

亞倫只覺得腳下的重力忽然消失，身體被懸空綁在一條無限延伸的波上。他看不見自己的身體，但能感覺到自己正在被拆解、被壓縮、被……重組。

耳邊風聲如潮，卻沒有一絲冷意。

「這是……哪裡？」他終於找到自己的聲音，語音如水中泡沫，散而不破。

莉娜的聲音從四面八方同時傳來，像迴音，也像正在腦中直接說話：

「這裡是『時間走廊』。不是空間，不是過去，也不是未來，而是——通往一切的門。」

眼前的景象緩緩顯現：一道銀白長廊在無限虛空中伸展，地板如星光編織而成，牆面是一道道映像之門，門上刻著閃爍不定的文字——有些是古代碑銘，有些是未來符碼，有些則是亞倫從未見過的語言結構。

「每一道門，是一個歷史斷點。」莉娜說，「一旦裂縫擴張，門的秩序將崩潰。歷史會混疊，因果會逆轉。你所知道的世界，將不再存在。」

亞倫盯著一扇門——門上顯現出古羅馬競技場的影像，但場中卻出現一架未來直升機，金屬機翼劃過雲層，炸彈落下，角鬥士與機器人同場廝殺。

「這就是『時間變異』？」亞倫低聲問。

莉娜頷首，「這是一個變異初期的歷史點。我們的任務，是進入門內，修補裂縫，穩定時間。」

她走向那扇門，手指輕觸其中央的文字光核，一道圓形時印自掌心浮現，門緩緩敞開，流光從縫隙中湧出。

「等等！」亞倫伸手拉住她。

「萬一我失敗了？」他說，「我不是戰士，我甚至不是冒險者……我只是讀過很多歷史的人。」

莉娜回頭，目光罕見地柔和起來。

「歷史不只是戰爭與英雄，也包括記憶與選擇。你比你以為的還更屬於這裡。」

她走入門中，消失在光影後。亞倫深吸一口氣，咬緊牙關，邁步跟上。

亞倫落地的那一刻，雙腳踏上的不是土地，而是一層會動的細沙。細沙微微閃光，彷彿內藏著記憶碎片。他低頭一看，每一粒沙子上，都刻著模糊的字跡。

「這裡……這是？」他回頭，卻不見莉娜。

不遠處，一座城牆浮現於迷霧中，風帶來斷裂鐘聲。亞倫一步步踏入這段異時空，突然一股冰冷從背脊竄起——

一名穿著古裝的孩童正蹲在牆邊畫畫，但他畫的，不是房屋，不是人，而是亞倫自己——站在他此刻的位置，神情驚恐。

「你怎麼知道我……」亞倫還未說完，孩童轉過頭，他的雙眼是銀白色的漩渦——像是時空之眼。

就在那瞬間，整個世界如水墨般塌陷，亞倫墜入漩渦，耳邊傳來莉娜的聲音：

「小心，那不是記憶的未來，而是未來的殘骸……你正走入時間碎島！」

第三章｜時間碎島的回聲

他墜落在一片沒有天的世界。

四周是翻覆的城牆、漂浮的鐘樓與懸空的書頁。空氣像被凍結卻仍在震顫，每走一步，都像踩在一層厚厚的玻璃上，隱約可以看見下方翻轉的時代殘片。

亞倫站起來，腳下是一片拼貼而成的破碎世界：半截中世橋樑接上未來列車的車廂；古代書院旁漂浮著一台生鏽的量子運算核心；更遠的地方，有一尊倒立的自由女神像斜插在沙中，只剩手中的火炬高高懸著，光不再亮。

這是「時間碎島」——歷史錯亂後留下的孤島，是未被修補的時間碎塊，被時間本體排拒的廢墟。

「莉娜？」亞倫試圖呼喚，但只有自己聲音的殘響在空氣中飄盪。

一陣細微的沙粒聲從遠處傳來。他循聲走去，跨越浮動的鐵路，推開一扇半融的玻璃門。屋內，坐著一個看似少女的身影，披著過大的時代學士袍，手裡握著一本發黃的書。

她的背影與莉娜……極為相似。

「妳是……莉娜？」他小聲問道。

那女子緩緩回頭，卻並非莉娜，而是一張模糊不清的臉孔，五官像是被風抹過，聲音卻清晰如水。

「我不是莉娜，但我記得妳叫她這個名字。」她合上書，「這是妳的記憶裡的一頁，不屬於這裡。」

亞倫愣住：「妳……是誰？」

她站起來，手中書頁浮起、旋轉，化為光點。

「我是時間碎片殘響。你落入這裡，是因為你懷疑——你懷疑自己的命運。」

那一刻，亞倫感覺時間倒抽。他看到自己的影像浮現在空中——他在圖書館翻書、與莉娜握手、說出「我只是個歷史學者」，然後無數個「他」疊加、變形，有的逃走、有的死去、有的化為維克多。

「這些……是我？」亞倫驚問。

「是你未選擇時，可能成為的每一種你。」

這不是幻覺，是時間對他投影的回聲，是命運裂口裡的自我碎裂。

「如果我無法修補時間……我會變成他嗎？變成維克多？」

她沒有回答，只將一本殘破的「時間日誌」遞給他。

書頁上只有一句話：

「當記憶開始選擇性遺忘，歷史便無法保證正義。」

亞倫接過書冊，感到它微微發燙。那女子的身形逐漸模糊，融入那無數碎裂的時光片羽中。

突然，空間震動。一道銀光橫切天際，莉娜終於出現，一劍斬開浮空的機械飛物，衝入場域。

「你沒事吧？」她喘著問。

亞倫點頭，緊緊握住那本「時間日誌」，目光比先前更堅定。

「我們不是要修補時間，我們是要記得那些被時間抹去的東西。」

莉娜望著他，眼中閃過一絲認同。

「很好，這是你的第一次過門洗鍊。記得這一課：時間不是機器，而是一種脆弱的記憶集合。」

他們轉身走出破碎空間，背後的碎島開始崩塌，像一場終於可以安息的夢。

而銀色的通道再次開啟，等著他們前往下一個「裂縫門」──

那裡，是維克多首次現身的時點，也是亞倫最害怕面對的歷史：他自己的未來。

第四章｜維克多的誕生日

時間走廊的裂縫在開啟前，總會出現一種「倒轉聲」——像錄音機的磁帶在逆行，也像心跳倒著跳。亞倫聽見那聲音，身體像被某種記憶牽引，向下一道裂縫走去。

莉娜握住他的手腕，皺眉。

「你確定嗎？這是他的源頭，你進去的不是時間點，而是命運軌道。」

亞倫深吸一口氣，說得極輕卻極決絕：

「我得知道，他怎麼變成我，或者我怎麼變成他。」

裂縫張開，他們被送入一段時間的深井。

城市被一層霧灰覆蓋，機械鳥盤旋在廢棄建築之間。這是戰後的灰色世界，記錄上稱為「語言重置時期」——人類社會系統被AI叛變撕裂後的重建期，許多孤兒在無身份的孤區中自生自滅。

亞倫和莉娜穿過一間由鋼鐵貨櫃拼接而成的教養中心，門上斑駁地寫著「時序育幼署」五個字。

「這裡不是一間學校，」莉娜說，「而是一間紀律實驗站——專門訓練特異兒童如何‘適應’崩壞秩序。」

亞倫的手微微顫抖。

「你是說……他是從這裡走出來的？」

莉娜點頭，指向走廊深處：「今天，是他第一次被帶進這裡的日子，也是——維克多的第十歲生日。」

亞倫站在一間透明觀察室後。對面是一個穿著寬大灰衣的孩子，坐在一張矮桌前，一動不動。他的眼睛並不冷酷，反而透著異常的安靜與悲傷。

這，就是年幼的維克多。

一位機械老師走近他，用沒有情感的語音說道：

「編號A-117，今日訓練開始：請回答——時間是什麼？」

小維克多低頭沉默，許久才說：

「時間……是一種會讓人忘記自己哭過的東西。」

機械老師停頓了三秒，回應：

「答錯，時間是一種可被演算法記錄與壓縮的序列結構。」

然後，它打開螢幕，播放一段他母親的影像——不，是母親死亡的片段。維克多的身體微微顫動，眼神沒有撕裂，只有死寂。

亞倫忍不住衝出觀察室，被莉娜擋住。

「這是歷史，亞倫，你不能干預——」

「這不是歷史，這是人性被摧毀的現場！」

莉娜咬牙，終於鬆手。亞倫衝進去，跪下來看著那個孩子。

他試圖讓自己說話，但喉頭像卡了千斤的石塊。終於，他擠出一句話：

「我知道你不明白……但你不是錯的。時間不是用來懲罰你的。」

小維克多抬起頭，第一次望進亞倫的眼。

那一眼——是未來黑暗魔君，尚未崛起的光。

亞倫試圖留下訊息，但莉娜拉住他：

「你越靠近他，你越可能‘生成’他。現在的你，是他之所以存在的‘變數’之一。」

莉娜語調堅定地說︰「你以為是在阻止命運，其實是在喚醒它。」

亞倫呆住。

「所以……我不是來阻止他，我是——來創造他的？」

莉娜沉默，沒有否認。

而在那間矮小教室中，小維克多握緊拳頭，第一次在心中記下了一個名字：

「亞倫。」

在返回走廊之前，亞倫低頭發現自己口袋中多了一個物品：一塊灰色的水晶碎片，上面刻著維克多親筆寫下的一句話——「如果我不是你，那我該成為誰？」

他回頭望向那仍舊漂浮著過去殘光的世界，喃喃自語：

「我們不是彼此的敵人……我們只是，彼此未來中最痛的傷。」

銀光再次包圍他們，將他與莉娜帶回時間走廊。而那個名為「維克多的誕生日」的門，在他們離開後，悄悄裂開一道新的縫。

歷史，不再是靜止的結構。

它開始流動——向未知的未來而去。

第五章｜審判之書

時間走廊在第九十七道門後，突然斷裂。

亞倫與莉娜抵達了一個沒有上下左右的場域——像是一座被摺疊過的萬花筒，每一個角落，都映出不同版本的「歷史碎片」：巴黎焚城的夜、月球墜落的影、母親在水中哭泣的輪廓……還有一個個他與莉娜的交會，無限延展，如鏡之重影。

「這裡是哪裡？」亞倫低聲問。

「這是『間界』。」莉娜答道，語氣罕見地低沉。

「準確說，是——裂時者的世界。」

四周牆面如同螺旋文字構成，不用照明，文字本身發光。亞倫被引領至一座似審判席的空間，前方浮現三道身影，面孔模糊，聲音如重疊多層聲道發出：

「亞倫·索恩，時間擾動者、歷史干預者、未來複製者……你是否承認，你已觸碰原始時間之律？」

亞倫下意識看向莉娜，卻發現她並未站在他身旁，而是在審問台對面。

「你為什麼在那邊？」

莉娜緩緩抬頭，語氣如冰：「我也是被召來接受審判的。」

「你不曾告訴我……你曾擅自越過時間底層，連接過過去的自己。」審問聲道指向莉娜。

亞倫瞪大眼。他第一次感覺，莉娜是遙不可及的。

「你，曾修改過哪一段歷史？」他問。

莉娜沉默片刻。

「我曾試圖拯救一個即將死亡的世界……我的家鄉。那一次，我寫入了審判之書一頁。結果，我的世界被‘時間秩序’徹底刪除，只留下我。」

她的聲音裡沒有懊悔，只有一種冷靜的殘酷。

「我不是時間的守護者，我是它的遺民。」

審問者遞出一本銀灰之書，封面沒有字，只有脈動——像活著的心臟。

「你們各自寫下一段你們最想記住，且願意承擔的歷史。審判將依此判斷：你們是修補者，還是扭曲者。」

莉娜先寫。她寫下自己與母親在時間毀滅前夕所度過的最後一晚：兩人坐在無光的街角，聽著收音機播放老舊的搖籃曲，她母親抱著她，說：

「別怕，莉娜。如果一切都被抹去，我希望妳，記得那首旋律。」

亞倫寫下的，卻不是戰爭或死亡，而是——莉娜初次出現時，那句話：

「你不是發現書的人，是書選擇了你。」

審問書頁自動翻動，讀取兩人的記憶後，牆面開始閃現判決語：

「莉娜‧伊索卡，記憶之罪，源自情感之選，存而不毀。」

「亞倫‧索恩，未犯原罪，卻擁記憶選擇之力，可成新秩序之編寫者。」

莉娜低下頭，聲音喃喃：

「你……竟然為我寫入記憶。你應該選擇拯救歷史，而不是我。」

亞倫看著她，眼神沒有埋怨。

「因為你，就是我的歷史。」

「如果記憶不是為了選擇人，而只是為了維持秩序，那它值得被拆解重寫。」

裂時者浮現一件器物：時間之劍，僅可由一人持有，劍所指向者，得決定「保留」或「抹除」一段時間記憶。

「你們只有一次機會，選擇一段時間：抹去，還是寫下。」

莉娜走向劍，但亞倫按住她的手。

「我們都不該持這劍。」

「為什麼？」

「因為這世界太多人的過去，只靠回憶苟活。你我若成為選擇者，那些微光會再次熄滅。」

他轉身對審問者說：「我拒絕書寫，我選擇讓每一段歷史都有可能留下。」

審判空間沉默。

片刻後，牆面顯現：「修補者確立——亞倫·索恩與莉娜·伊索卡，成為新守望者之雙影。」

莉娜喃喃一笑：「你終於做了選擇。」

「不，」亞倫握住她的手，「我只是不想再失去妳一次。」

就在兩人被釋放時，審問廳後方，一道金色圓門緩緩打開。

裡面坐著一名小女孩，手中握著與「審判之書」一模一樣的冊子。

她回頭，露出一張陌生卻熟悉的臉。

「你們以為審判結束了？」

她的聲音與莉娜極像。

「不，它才剛開始。」

第六章｜回聲的名字

金色圓門之後，空間不是房間，而是一片安靜的記憶草原。

地面由記憶碎片鋪成，如未發芽的詩句；天際低垂如被拉平的時間線，一切光線似被柔化，只剩「在場」的真實。這裡沒有過去，也沒有未來，只有「此刻」。

莉娜走在亞倫身後，步伐放得異常輕慢。那女孩依然坐在一塊浮動的時間石上，雙腳搖晃，低頭看著手中的書。

她翻頁時，書會發出像是風鈴的聲響。那不是金屬聲，而是記憶碎裂又重合的聲響——一種只能聽見、無法描述的聲音。

亞倫走近她，開口。

「妳是誰？」

女孩抬起頭，微笑，語氣像在回憶：「我是莉娜寫下的那一頁。」

亞倫怔住。

莉娜後退一步，雙眼微顫。

「……不可能。」

女孩將書闔上，站起身，語調緩慢：

「在妳第一次違抗時間規律時，將妳母親的最後一句話——那首搖籃曲，寫進了審判之書。時間不允許你帶走記憶，所以便把那記憶拆出來，做成我。」

她走向莉娜，伸出手指觸碰她額心。

「我不是妳的女兒，也不是妳自己。我是妳選擇留下的一段殘響。我是妳的回聲。」

莉娜失語。

亞倫看著兩人，明白自己與她的每一次相遇，每一次「似曾相識」的語調，都有一層未曾揭露的底色。

女孩指向天際，一道銀幕緩緩展開，播放莉娜從未告訴亞倫的那一段：

一場被刪除的未來災難，一個即將消失的時代，莉娜站在風雨中的街角，將一段錄音藏入時間書頁，低聲說：

「如果哪天我不再存在，請把這段聲音還給他。」

畫面中，「他」的輪廓不清，但亞倫的臉已經泛出。

「她為什麼……」亞倫喉嚨發緊。

「因為她一直記得你。」

女孩說著，從書中抽出最後一頁，遞給亞倫。

那頁沒有文字，只有一個空白框，標示著：「命名區」。

「只要你寫下我的名字，我就會成為真實。」

莉娜驚聲：「不！你不能——這是陷阱！」

女孩輕聲說：「他若不命名我，我便無法存在；他若命名我，我將被拉入現實，不再是記憶。」

「而你，亞倫，將第一次——創造。」

亞倫雙手顫抖，握住筆。那筆不是金屬製，而是由他過往的記憶壓縮成的形狀。他看到筆尖映出：他與莉娜初見之刻。

他見證維克多童年時的那一眼憐憫。

他拒絕持時間之劍時的那個微笑。

每一幕都是「選擇」。

莉娜低聲：「不要。你不該被命名的權力束縛。」

亞倫卻輕輕搖頭。

「但若我連這段回聲都不能保留，那我們拼命守護的記憶，還算什麼？」

他提筆，在那空白的命名框中，寫下了一個名字——

「艾蕾雅（Eléya）」

筆觸落下的那一刻，整個記憶草原發出迴響。

天幕震動，銀光交錯，那女孩緩緩升空，化為一縷銀絲，融入莉娜體內。

莉娜站立不穩，淚流滿面。

「我……想起來了。」

「我曾經失去過，但不是全失。那段我自己都不敢承認的記憶，如今……回來了。」

在他們即將離開時，時間走廊忽然劇烈震動。一本書自天墜下，砸在他們面前。

是「未來史書」。

它自動翻開，出現一句新出現的文字：

「當命名開始，命運也重新開機。」

「時間已開始重寫。」

亞倫與莉娜對望，第一次明白：

他們不再只是修補者。

他們已經成為——建構者。

在時間碎島殘端，一名成熟身影站於時間塵暴中。他伸手接住一粒閃光殘頁，冷冷一笑：「原來你終究還是寫下了她的名字……亞倫。」

他轉身，步入另一個空白門。

門上刻著：「∞：起源再啟」

第七章｜∞：起源再啟

時間的裂痕宛如無底深淵，猶如黑洞般無情地吞噬著一切秩序與法則。空間在他們腳下扭曲顫抖，過去與未來如千絲萬縷的斷裂光纖，交織成一張千瘡百孔、幾近崩解的巨大網絡。亞倫與莉娜並肩站在裂縫的邊緣，心跳如鼓，感受到這場浩劫的巨大壓迫——這是他們首次面對全面性的「時間崩解」，一場理性無法觸及的混沌風暴。

莉娜的唇微微顫抖，眼中卻燃燒著堅定的光芒，她低聲問道：「亞倫，我們……真的準備好了嗎？」語氣中帶著難掩的焦慮與一絲不確定。

亞倫緊握拳頭，手指指節因用力而泛白，體內流動的時間能量如烈火般燒灼著他的神經。他深吸一口氣，壓下內心的震盪，沉聲回答：「沒有退路了，莉娜。這裡，就是我們的戰場。毀滅可能會抹去一切，但創造……也許能帶來新的生機。」

忽然，崩解的浪潮如狂暴洪水猛獸般轟然湧來，破碎的時間碎片如刀刃般在他們腳下炸裂，跳動的秒針化作刺眼光束，劃破空間的脆弱屏障。莉娜雙手揚起，指尖流轉出閃爍的光絲，那是她凝聚的「時間之織」，她用盡全力，用意念捕捉散落的光點，試圖編織回破裂的時間織網。

「我們該用什麼力量，去阻止這無盡的毀滅？」亞倫的聲音低沉，隱藏著深深的無力感。

莉娜緩緩閉上眼，腦海中湧現出過去在裂時者世界所學的時間倫理與修補法則，那是他們唯一的信仰與依靠。她緩緩吐出一句話：「不只是阻止，而是……選擇。時間崩解，不僅是終結，它同時是創造的序曲。」

就在此刻，崩解的虛空中，一扇幽暗的門扉忽然顯現，門扉形狀猶如永恆輪迴的符號∞，在斷裂的時空中閃爍著冰冷而神秘的光芒。兩人心頭猛然一震，感覺那門背後封印著一種遠古、根本的力量——起源的再啟。

「那是……」亞倫幾乎喃喃自語，眼神中透出震撼與不安。

「∞，無限的可能性，也是起點與終點的交匯處。」莉娜語氣凝重，彷彿在喚醒沉睡的真相。

兩人對視一眼，默契中帶著決然，他們決定同時踏入那扇門，迎向最後的試煉。門後是一片純粹的虛空，沒有時間、沒有空間，只有一束純粹的光與一片深沉的影，兩股力量在寂靜中彼此對峙。

光，是創造——孕育未來與希望的種子，溫暖且充滿生機。

影，是毀滅——抹去過往枷鎖的黑暗，冷冽而無情。

亞倫與莉娜佇立其間，彷彿命運的天秤懸掛於胸口，每一次呼吸都帶著沉重的分量。

莉娜輕聲喚道：「亞倫，選擇吧。」

亞倫的手微微顫抖，指尖輕觸著光與影的交界，那界線冷暖交織，猶如他內心的矛盾與掙扎。他深吸一口氣，輕聲喃喃：「如何才能分辨真正的意義？哪一條才是未來的路？」

他感覺那兩股力量糾纏不休，沒有絕對的黑暗或光明，只有彼此相依的共存。

「也許……」他緩緩說出心底最深的體悟，「真義在於接納這兩者。唯有創造與毀滅並存，時間才會得以重生。」

莉娜的眼眸柔和地笑了，默默點頭，兩人攜手合力，將創造與毀滅的力量融為一體。隨著他們的意念匯聚，時間裂痕開始緩緩縫合，崩解的浪潮逐漸退散，虛空中的∞符號穩定旋轉，彷彿在低語宣告——

起源已再啟動，一個新的時間紀元，正緩緩誕生。