Odyssey Nexus

Hector watched Jalen struggle to his feet, a smirk playing at his lips. The man was strong—faster than most, with instincts that bordered on supernatural. But instincts meant nothing when time itself was against you.

He cracked his knuckles, rolling his shoulders as the market around them buzzed with distant panic. Civilians ran, merchants scrambled to save their wares, but to Hector, it was all just background noise. His real focus was on the fighter in front of him—the dude with the burning glyphs and an attitude too big for his own good.

"How much more can you take, Jalen?"

Hector's smirk deepened. The truth was, he wasn't here to kill him. No, this was a test. He needed to see how well Jalen handled himself under pressure—how he adapted, how he fought when stripped of his crutches. And Lucio? Well, the "taco assassin" was sharp, but Hector had taken him out of the equation. If Jalen was going to survive, he had to do it alone.

That didn't mean Hector wasn't here for the gold.

His fingers twitched. That fortune Rhea and Stix had flashed around the market? It was a fool's beacon, a call to every cutthroat in the city. If Hector hadn't intervened, someone else would've taken it—and not nearly as politely.

"Still, I wonder…"

He glanced at Jalen again, who was already shifting into a more stable stance despite the pain in his ribs. His glyphs flickered between green and red, cycling between excitement and rage. Even now, Jalen was adapting. Learning.

"Maybe you really are worth my time."

Hector exhaled, rolling his neck as the air thickened around them. His power pulsed in the space between seconds."Let's see what you've really got, Jalen."

Then, he vanished.

Jalen's breath came in sharp, uneven gasps, his body tense with frustration. His glyphs flared a violent red, burning hot against his skin. The moment Hector vanished, his gut twisted—he hated this.

This bullshit."SHOW YOURSELF!" Jalen roared, his voice carrying over the now-emptied market square. His knuckles clenched so tight his fingers ached, but he ignored it. He needed to hit something. He needed him to stop playing games.

A whisper of movement. A flicker.

Jalen spun and swung wild, but his fist cut through empty air.

Then—CRACK!

A boot slammed into his ribs, the same spot Hector had already struck. Pain exploded in his side, sending him stumbling back into an overturned cart. His vision blurred, but through it, he caught the faint shimmer of Hector just before he disappeared again.

Jalen snarled, slamming his fist into the wooden cart. 'He's toying with me.'

"You know Jalen you were never good at beating me in fighting games I just didn't think it would transfer into real life as well."

His anger pulsed, urging him to push harder, move faster, and strike recklessly. His vision was tinted red— He was swinging at ghosts, hitting nothing but air, while Hector landed every hit with precision.

"Damn it, think!" Jalen clenched his teeth. 'But how can I think when he's in my head—when he's making a fool out of me?!'

Then—he felt it.

Eyes on him.

Jalen turned his head, his breath still ragged, and froze.

Stix and Rhea stood at the edge of the market, half-hidden behind a stack of crates. Their eyes—wide, uncertain, afraid—weren't watching the fight.

They were watching him.

Jalen realized, in that split second, that they weren't looking at the man who had cracked jokes and promised them safety. They weren't seeing the guy who gave them food and a place to sleep.

They were seeing a monster.

He didn't know what scared him more—the fact that they should be afraid, or the fact that he didn't want them to be.

His grip loosened, and his breath steadied. The red glow of his glyphs faded, shifting—burning back to a controlled blue.

He couldn't let them see him lose.

He wouldn't.

But the moment clarity returned to his mind, Hector—no, Nathan—moved.

The air grew thick. The space between them seemed to ripple like the very fabric of reality was unraveling. Jalen barely had time to react before the world around him stopped.

Nathan smirked. "Good. Now let's see what you do against this."And then—everything shattered.

"Time's Requiem."

The world around Jalen froze and time came to a halt. His mind raced but his body would not move. The glyphs on his arm still pulsing.'Calm down Jalen, relax you're fine you just can't move'

The realization hit him like a slow-burning fuse. He could still think, still process. This wasn't some dream state—this was real. But if his mind was free...

His glyphs glowed again, but this time, they didn't shift wildly. Instead, they steadied into a golden hue, a color he had only seen when he was at peace—when he was in control.

'If I can think, then there's a way to act. There's always a way.'

Jalen focused, channeling that golden energy, directing it not into his fists, but into his sight. His breath slowed. The world remained frozen, but then—faintly, like an afterimage burned into his vision—he saw movement. A shimmer in the stillness. A ripple in the frozen air.

And just like that, he saw into the stopped world.

His body remained trapped, but his mind had transcended the flow of time itself.

This was just the beginning.

He inhaled sharply, then forced the words out:

"Hector… ug-ugh… reveal y-yourself!"

And in front of him—Hector appeared.

The man smirked. "Well, well, look who's trying to force themselves into my world."

He reached out and patted Jalen on the head, mocking him.

"I gotta say, it's a neat trick, but unfortunately, it won't last too long." Hector's eyes gleamed with amusement. "I can already see the strain on your face. You can't maintain whatever it is you're doing."

Jalen grit his teeth, his golden eyes locked onto Hector.

"That… may be true for right now…" Jalen muttered through gritted teeth, his voice laced with defiance.

"But you of all people should know… how s-serious I g-get… when I lock in, NATHAN!"

Nathan's smirk faltered.

That one second of hesitation—

That one opening—

That was all Jalen needed.

His glyphs flared, golden energy roaring through his body like a dam breaking.

The regulator on his arms sparked. Adapted.

And then—

WARNING: LIMIT BREAK IN PROGRESS. ANIMA NEXUS RECALIBRATING REGULATOR.

A voice echoed in his mind.

Jalen blinked. 'The hell was that?'

It didn't matter.

He could feel it—something shifting. Something awakening.

His power was changing.

He clenched his fists. A grin split his face.

"Get ready, Nathan…"

The energy in his body surged, the air around him cracking under the pressure.

"Cause I'm about to knock you into next Tuesday!"

The world was still. The frozen cityscape stretched endlessly around him, every dust particle suspended midair like stars caught in glass. His golden glyphs pulsed rhythmically, no longer erratic, but steady—ticking.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

The sound wasn't coming from the world around him.

It was coming from him.

Jalen clenched his fists, staring at his hands as the golden light from his glyphs intensified. He felt something shifting within him, something cracking open like a lock that had been waiting to be unsealed.

A pulse surged through his veins, like the second hand of a clock snapping into motion. His breath hitched as the ticking grew louder, deeper—reverberating in his very bones. The glyphs on his arms rotated, their markings twisting and interlocking like clock gears. The once smooth designs became layered, mechanical, alive.

Then—his body fractured.

Golden seams split across his form like a shattered hourglass, fragments of his old self peeling away into floating shards of time itself. Beneath the dissolving fabric of his old attire, something new was being forged.

His new attire materialized piece by piece, forming around him like a masterpiece of horology.

His jacket morphed into a sleek, high-collared coat lined with shifting clockwork gears, their motions subtly adjusting as if measuring time itself. His sleeves bore intricate metallic inlays resembling the spinning components of a pocket watch, the golden accents glowing faintly with each pulse of energy.

His pants and boots adjusted to fit a more streamlined, tactical design—built for both agility and precision. At his back, two interlocking rings hovered—resembling the rotating mechanisms of an ancient timepiece. They spun in harmony, a visual testament to his new power.

Jalen landed back on solid ground, his breathing heavy. He glanced down at himself, lifting his hands, watching as his new glyphs ticked and rotated in perfect sync.

He exhaled sharply. Then, as expected, he ruined the moment.

"Bruh… why do I look like I got clocked out of a steampunk convention?!"

His voice echoed through the stillness, but before he could dwell too much on his bizarre new fashion statement, he felt it.

Something pulling at him.

"I'm not sure what's going on but I'm not gonna waste this opportunity!" A huge smile burst from Jalen's face.