AGE BEFORE TIME
1621 Words
The spear sliced the air.
Vishvanatham leaned sideways just in time—feeling the heat of the glowing blade pass an inch from his cheek. The warrior who threw it was already rushing in, his footsteps silent despite the weight of his armor.
Vishvanatham’s mind snapped into combat instinct.
No weapons. No armor. No allies.
Just his fists.
Just his will.
He ducked under the next strike, swept the attacker’s legs, and slammed him into the forest floor. But the warrior rolled effortlessly, landing on his feet like an animal.
Their eyes locked.
These were not humans.
Their movements were too sharp, too precise.
Their bodies were marked with swirling sigils that pulsed like molten fire.
Before the warrior could strike again, the ground trembled.
A low hum—like the world itself was waking from sleep—rippled under Vishvanatham’s feet.
The warrior paused.
Then he whispered a single word:
> “Akalrupt.”
The others stepped back.
The forest darkened, as if night was pouring from the ground.
Vishvanatham remained still, every muscle alert.
“What does that mean?” he asked quietly.
The leader stepped forward, spear glowing bright white.
> “It means…
Time has sensed you.”
---
THE FOREST THAT REMEMBERS
The trees shivered.
Not from wind.
From awareness.
Vishvanatham looked around as the forest shifted colors—from green to a pale silver glow. Strange runes emerged on tree bark. Roots twisted slowly, deliberately, as if reacting to his presence.
He clenched his jaw.
“What kind of place is this?”
The warrior leader answered:
> “This is the Age Before Dawn, mortal.
When gods were not yet born, and time had not begun its march.”
Vishvanatham frowned.
“So I’ve fallen into… a era before the first era?”
The leader nodded slowly.
> “You stand in the zero-point. The origin.
A place no mortal should ever set foot.”
The warriors tightened their grip on their weapons.
> “You are an intruder.
A disruption.
A threat to the first timeline.”
Vishvanatham sighed.
“Great. My first time-travel mission and I land in a prehistoric mythic death jungle.”
The leader blinked.
He clearly didn’t understand the joke.
But he raised his spear.
> “You must be eliminated before the timelines fracture further.”
Vishvanatham raised his hands.
“Look—I’m not your enemy. I’m here to fix something. A temporal fracture. Aksara sent me.”
The warriors stiffened.
A ripple of fear passed through them.
The leader whispered:
> “…the Guardian of Time?”
“Yes,” Vishvanatham said slowly.
“She said something broke. I’m here to repair it.”
The leader studied him for a long, tense moment.
Then—
He lowered his spear.
The other warriors hesitated… but followed.
“Fine,” the leader said.
“If Aksara intervenes, your arrival is not an accident.”
Vishvanatham exhaled in relief.
“I’m Vishvanatham. And you?”
The warrior bowed his head slightly.
> “I am Vayruk. Sentinel of the First Age.”
Vishvanatham nodded.
“Then tell me, Vayruk: what exactly am I supposed to fix here?”
Vayruk glanced around the forest, his expression darkening.
> “This age was stable. Unchanging. Eternal.
Until yesterday.”
Vishvanatham’s spine tightened.
“What happened yesterday?”
Vayruk raised his hand.
The forest trembled.
And in the distance—a massive pulse of golden light burst upward like a geyser.
BOOOOOOM.
The shockwave flattened trees.
The ground cracked.
Time itself shivered.
Vayruk whispered:
> “That happened.”
---
THE FRACTURE SITE
They moved quickly through the forest—Vayruk and his warriors leading, Vishvanatham following close behind.
As they traveled, Vishvanatham noticed something disturbing:
The forest was decaying.
Only on one side.
Leaves on the left were green.
Leaves on the right were turning black… falling off… then floating upward instead of down.
Gravity was breaking.
Time was breaking.
“Is this normal?” Vishvanatham muttered.
Vayruk answered without turning.
> “Nothing in this age moves.
Nothing grows.
Nothing dies.
This world is meant to be frozen.
But now…”
He gestured.
A deer-like creature stood ahead.
Half of its body moved gracefully.
The other half… was stuck. Frozen in place.
Vishvanatham’s breath caught.
“…it’s trapped between two timelines.”
They reached a cliff overlooking a massive crater. At the center, a swirling golden vortex churned violently—like a wound carved into reality.
“That’s the fracture?” Vishvanatham asked.
Vayruk nodded.
> “It appeared after a figure fell from the sky.”
Vishvanatham went still.
“A figure? Who?”
Vayruk hesitated.
“…we thought it was you.”
Vishvanatham frowned deeply.
“No. I didn’t fall here. I landed miles away.”
Vayruk nodded grimly.
> “Then the one who fell here… was someone else.”
The warriors murmured nervously.
Vishvanatham stepped closer to the edge of the crater.
The vortex pulsed—chaotic, unstable.
And then…
Something moved inside it.
Someone.
A shadow.
A human figure struggling at the center, trapped inside the swirl of time-energy.
Vishvanatham’s eyes widened.
“…someone’s inside the fracture.”
Vayruk’s jaw tightened.
> “We know.
We also know this:
Whatever that being is… it is not from this age.”
The vortex screamed, the sound ripping through the air like shattering glass.
Vishvanatham’s heart pounded.
If someone else had fallen through time…
Who was it?
And why did Aksara send only him?
---
THE BEING IN THE FRACTURE
Vishvanatham stepped closer.
The light of the fracture lit his face with a golden glow, and through the distortion, he saw—
A man.
Tall.
Strong.
Wearing strange armor.
Half-conscious, struggling against the vortex.
His face flickered through multiple ages—young one second, old the next, then scarred, then clean.
Vishvanatham whispered:
“…he’s shifting through time.”
The warriors gasped.
Vayruk growled.
> “No mortal should be able to survive a time-wound. That thing is dangerous.”
Vishvanatham shook his head.
“No. He’s trapped. I need to get him out.”
One warrior stepped forward.
> “If you touch the fracture, you will die.”
“Maybe,” Vishvanatham said.
“But if I don’t, time will die.”
He closed his eyes.
Aksara’s voice echoed in his mind:
> “You can walk through time without losing yourself.”
He exhaled slowly.
“I can do this.”
Vayruk put a hand on his shoulder.
> “If you die, mortal, remember—your last act was foolish.”
Vishvanatham grinned.
“I’ve been told that before.”
And he stepped into the fracture.
---
INSIDE THE TIME-WOUND
The world shattered into spirals of memory.
Vishvanatham felt time push against him.
A tidal wave of eras slamming into his mind—ancient wars, lost cities, future empires—all blending, twisting, screaming.
Most men would’ve lost their sanity in a heartbeat.
But he pushed forward.
His mind held.
He reached the man struggling at the center.
The man whispered hoarsely:
> “…help me…”
Vishvanatham grabbed his arm.
“Hold still!”
The fracture resisted.
It pulled.
It clawed at them.
The man screamed in agony.
Vishvanatham growled, using every ounce of strength—
—and pulled the stranger out.
The vortex roared and collapsed behind them.
BOOOOOOOOOOM.
Vishvanatham landed on the ground, gasping.
The warriors rushed forward, weapons raised toward the fallen man.
Vayruk demanded:
> “What is that being? Tell us!”
Vishvanatham knelt beside him.
The man’s face flickered—old, young, old, young—like time couldn’t decide what to do with him.
Vishvanatham gently held his head still.
“Who are you?”
The man’s eyes opened.
Bright gold.
Unnatural.
He whispered one word.
A word that froze every breath in Vishvanatham’s chest.
> “…Vishva…”
Vishvanatham went rigid.
“How do you know my name?”
The man reached up weakly, grabbing Vishvanatham’s hand—
—and whispered:
> “Because…
I am you.”
The forest went silent.
The warriors stepped back, shocked.
Vishvanatham stared at the man—at himself—older, scarred, dying.
His voice trembled.
“…what?”
The stranger—his future self—smiled faintly.
> “I came back… to warn you…
about the end of time…”
His voice broke.
> “…and the truth about who you really are.”
Vishvanatham’s heartbeat thundered.
The warriors watched in terrified silence.
Vayruk whispered:
> “This… is impossible.”
The future Vishvanatham coughed, blood staining his lips.
He whispered urgently:
> “Listen… before the ages take me…”
Vishvanatham leaned closer.
The dying future self spoke his final words:
> “You are not chosen by time.
You were created by time.”
Vishvanatham felt the world tilt.
Created?
By time?
His future self’s grip weakened.
With his final breath, he whispered:
> “Find… the first truth…
in the Tower of Origin…”
And then—
His body dissolved into golden sand.
The wind carried the sand upward, disappearing into the sky.
The warriors and Vayruk trembled in fear.
Vishvanatham stared at the scattered sand, heart racing.
His future self had died in his arms.
And revealed a truth that shattered every belief he had.
Created by time.
Not born.
Not destined.
Created.
He closed his eyes, whispering:
“What am I…?”
The forest wind answered with a low, haunting echo.
---
END OF EPISODE 2
If you want the next part, say:
Start Episode 3
Episode 3 will reveal:
The Tower of Origin
The first guardian
The truth time tried to hide
Why Vishvanatham is the anomaly, created by time itself
- Writer
