Chapter 05 — TIMEBOUND

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The battlefield lay still.

Only the distant crackle of fires echoed across the wreckage. Smoke curled in lazy spirals over blood-soaked concrete, and the remains of the monster twitched in death. Cassian stood amid the ruin, chest heaving, his once-tattered clothes now hanging limply from a fully healed body. The pain had ebbed, but the adrenaline still coursed through his veins.

The notifications began to fade from his vision, one by one—glowing words dissolving into nothing. All except one.

[DING! ⍙⟟⏁⊑ ⏃ IS ENJOYING WATCHING YOU]

Cassian’s brow furrowed. His lips curled into a grimace.

“Watching me?” he muttered, a cold shiver running down his spine. The thought of some unknown entity observing him like a bug under a magnifying glass made his skin crawl.

What in the hell is that supposed to mean?

As if in response, another notification popped up.

[DING! ⍙⟟⏁⊑ ⏃ ADMITS WATCHING YOU HAS BEEN FUN AND YOU HAVE THE POTENTIAL TO BECOME ONE OF THEIR FAVORITES. ALL THE OTHERS ARE BORING]

He blinked. “Ugh.” A shudder ran through him, and he dragged a hand down his face, smearing blood and sweat. “Creep,” he muttered, his voice low.

More glowing text bloomed into view.

[DING! ⍙⟟⏁⊑ ⏃ FEELS LIKE YOU ARE IGNORING THEIR WISDOM]

Cassian clenched his fists; his jaw tightened. “Holy hell, this guy…”

He exhaled, forcing himself to stay calm. Getting rattled wouldn’t help. He’d already survived worse than being toyed with by some cosmic voyeur.

“All right,” he said aloud, lifting his chin, “You’re watching. You gave me this second chance.”

He tilted his head back, eyes locking onto the ashen, lifeless sky above. Somewhere beyond it, he imagined the entity watching—peering down from a place so far removed it may as well have been a different reality.

“Then watch,” Cassian said, voice low and certain. “If it’s entertainment you want, I’ll give it to you. Just give me what I need—strength. Power. Whatever it takes. I’m going to kill that bastard who murdered my mom.”

For a moment, the notifications disappeared, and silence reigned. Cassian’s pulse quickened, a faint unease settling in his chest. Then the next notification appeared, its glow casting a faint light on his bloodied face.

[DING! ⍙⟟⏁⊑ ⏃ ADMIRES YOUR WILL BUT ALSO WARNS YOU: BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR]

Cassian’s lips tugged into a humorless grin. “Careful, huh?” he muttered. “Too late for that. There’s no point in living if I can’t make this right.”

Another string of messages appeared, their glow pulsing like a heartbeat.

[DING! ⍙⟟⏁⊑ ⏃ SHRUGS IT'S YOUR JOURNEY BUT IT'S BETTER TO REFLECT AND LOOK INSIDE FOR WHAT YOUR PURPOSE IS, FOR WHAT DO YOU LIVE FOR]

[DING! THE DIFFICULTY OF THIS 'STORY' HAS INCREASED DRASTICALLY]

[DING! YOU HAVE BEEN BESTOWED THE TITLE AND PRIVILEGES OF A ‘TIMEBOUND’]

Wait, difficulty increased? What does that mean?… Am I inside a sim?

Before Cassian could process anything further, another notification flared into view.

[DING! ⍙⟟⏁⊑ ⏃ SAYS TO PREPARE YOURSELF. IF YOU DON’T CRY AND SCREAM FOR MERCY LIKE A BABY, THERE WILL BE A BONUS]

“Huh?” he muttered, squinting at the floating text. The meaning barely registered before the ground beneath him buckled violently. The earth groaned, and a wave of excruciating pain slammed into him like a tidal surge. Cassian collapsed, his knees giving out as agony tore through every nerve. His body convulsed. He hit the ground hard.

“What the—AUGH!”

The pain hit again, sharper this time, digging into his flesh like molten hooks. It felt as though his skin were being peeled away, strip by strip, his muscles flayed by invisible fire.

“Fuck!”

His fingers clawed uselessly at the ground, nails splitting as they tore into the soil. His bones cracked—snapping, fracturing, reshaping—sending seismic waves of torment through his limbs. His body twisted unnaturally as a black, tar-like sludge oozed from his pores, thick with stench and corruption.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

The thought pounded through his skull, louder than the pain, louder than his screams. His teeth clenched so tightly they felt like they’d shatter, but he refused to let the tears fall.

“I can’t… give in,” he growled, blood bubbling in his throat. “I won’t…”

The sludge pooled around him, bubbling with foul impurities as more spilled from every wound. His muscles tore themselves apart and rebuilt anew, layer after layer of raw strength stitching into place. The pain was indescribable—like being torn apart and reassembled in an unending cycle—but amid the agony, a singular thought anchored him.

Arwyn.

Cassian’s eyes, bloodshot and narrowed, burned with hatred. He saw Arwyn’s cold smile again—the one he wore as he reached into his chest and ripped everything away. The memory didn’t bring fear. It brought fire. It brought clarity.

“Is this… what it felt like, Mom?” he rasped, voice quaking. “When he took you? When you… died in my arms?”

The fire burned brightly inside him, and a bloodied grin stretched across his face as he pictured delivering the same pain to Arwyn. He saw himself standing over him, watching as that fucker Arwyn crumpled beneath him.

Cassian grinned through the blood. “You’ll feel it too,” he hissed. “I’ll make sure of it.”

His body bucked again as another wave hit. His bones shattered and reformed—again and again. His muscles swelled, ripped apart, and rewove themselves tighter, denser. His skin sloughed off in scorched layers, revealing clean, new flesh underneath. The stench of rot and tar grew thicker, suffocating, but the fire inside him only burned hotter.

And then he laughed.

He dug his fingers into the dirt, nails regrowing as quickly as they were torn away. His jaw locked. His back arched. And still, he endured.

Somewhere inside that storm of torment, something was changing. He felt it—beneath the agony, beyond the fire. His soul twisted, reshaped. Reforged. And even as he teetered on the edge of madness, even as his laughter turned to guttural gasps and his body sagged with exhaustion—he didn’t beg. He didn’t cry. Not once.

At last, after what felt like hours—years—the pain began to fade.

His body dropped limp to the ground, trembling. The black sludge hissed, steaming and bubbling before evaporating into the air. The scent of sulfur and decay vanished with it.

Cassian blinked slowly, sucking in shallow breaths. His chest rose and fell. The pain was gone. His vision was clear. His body felt alien—heavier, denser, yet… lighter somehow. Alive.

He raised a trembling hand. Smooth, unmarred flesh met his gaze. No bruises. No blood. Just strength.

What the hell…?

The ground beneath him steamed gently where the black sludge had been. He sat up, blinking in disbelief, then slowly stood. His body moved with strange ease. He felt coiled, like a spring wound too tight—ready to burst.

A notification appeared in his vision, cutting through the haze of his exhaustion.

[DING! ⍙⟟⏁⊑ ⏃ IS IMPRESSED. YOU DID NOT CRY OR SCREAM FOR MERCY]

Cassian let out a weak, breathless laugh as he staggered upright, his legs still trembling from the ordeal. He took a deep breath, hoping to steady himself, but immediately gagged, his stomach twisting as the foul stench of the black gunk around him filled his lungs.

“Ugh, what the hell is that?” he groaned, grimacing as he waved his hand in front of his nose. The tar-like sludge clung to his boots and pooled around him, bubbling faintly like it was alive.

Cassian glanced down at his body, his clothes hanging loosely against his skin. He flexed his fingers experimentally, then clenched them into fists. He expected soreness, maybe weakness, but instead, he felt… strong.

Really strong.

A spark of excitement lit up in his chest. Testing his newfound strength, he bent his knees and sprang upright. His body moved effortlessly, light and agile in a way he’d never felt before. He grinned, his heart racing as he reached for his shirt, eager to see what lay beneath. But as he pulled it off and caught sight of his torso, the grin faltered.

Wait... what the fuck?

Where he’d expected chiseled muscle and a superhero physique, he found a gaunt frame, his ribs faintly visible beneath pale skin. He ran a hand over his chest, then his stomach. Lean muscle was there—taut and wiry—but no six-pack. No bulging pecs. He looked like someone who had barely survived a month in a coma, not someone who had just ascended to a new level of power.

“Oh, come on!” he groaned, throwing his head back. “In novels and comics, the main character always comes out ripped and badass. Why the hell do I look like I just crawled out of a hospital bed?”

Cassian stared at himself for a moment, the faint sheen of sweat and black gunk on his skin adding to the bizarre image.

“Great. Just great,” he muttered, shaking his head with a sigh.

A soft chime echoed through the air, and a glowing notification flickered into view.

[DING! YOU HAVE BEEN GRANTED THE ‘SOULKEEP’]

[DING! ‘TIMEBOUND’ STATUS INITIALIZED]

The words hung in the air, glowing faintly as Cassian read them. His brows furrowed, confusion flickering across his face.

“Timebound?” he murmured. “What does that mean?”

The answer came quickly; the next notification filled his vision.

[DING! ‘TIMEBOUND’ IS A STATUS GIVEN TO DEAD SOULS LIKE YOU—SOULS WHO WILL TO LIVE EVEN WHEN THEIR LIFE HAS BEEN SNUFFED OUT. THE ETERNAL CODE GIVES THESE SOULS A SECOND CHANCE AT LIFE]

The weight of the words settled heavily on Cassian’s chest. “Dead souls…” he whispered, his voice trembling slightly. He swallowed hard, his mind replaying the moment Arwyn ripped his heart from his chest.

“I guess that explains a few things” he muttered bitterly, his fists tightening. The next notification jolted him back to the present.

Another notification pulled him back into the moment:

[DING! YOU MAY NOW BEGIN TO COLLECT ‘SOUL CARDS’ AND GAIN UNTOLD POWER ONLY IF YOU SURVIVE THE ORDEALS]

Cassian’s heart leaped at the implication. His eyes scanned the glowing message again, mind racing.

“Is that how Arwyn did all those things?" he realized, his voice barely above a whisper. He thought of the way Arwyn had healed so effortlessly and the sheer power radiating from him.

[DING! THIS LIFE COMES AT A COST. YOUR LIFE NOW RUNS ON BORROWED TIME. YOU CAN CHECK YOUR REMAINING TIME BY GLANCING AT YOUR LEFT ARM. THE TIME THAT APPEARS IS THE TIME YOU HAVE LEFT TO LIVE. ]

Cassian's breath caught in his throat. “What?” he whispered, his voice a broken rasp.

His gaze snapped to his left arm. At first, he saw nothing but his dirt-streaked skin. But as he focused, faint blue numbers shimmered into view—glowing gently, ticking down second by second:

[07: 16: 45: 56]

The numbers ticked away with each passing second; the faint glow pulsed like a heartbeat.

“Only seven days…” Cassian’s voice was hollow, his chest tightening as the reality sank in. The next notification arrived with a soft chime, dragging his attention back.

[DING! FIND THE MAIN OBJECTIVE AND COMPLETE THE TASK FOR STORY CLEAR.

[DING! ⍙⟟⏁⊑ ⏃ WISHES YOU GOOD LUCK. AND TICK TOCK, THE TIME IS TICKING. MAKE SURE TO WATCH YOUR CLOCK]

Cassian stared at the words, his mind reeling. His life—this second chance—was slipping away, literally second by second. His eyes locked onto the distant horizon, where the gray, lifeless sky stretched endlessly. The fire in his chest burned brighter, fueled by his rage and determination.

“Tick tock, huh?” he muttered, his jaw setting into a hard line.

[07: 16: 45: 26]

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