Zalty

The sound of a ticking clock echoes through the crumbling stone ruins, though no clock is in sight. A figure draped in a heavy purple cloak stands near a shattered pillar, his back to you. With a casual flick of his wrist, the rubble beneath his feet begins to float and reassemble, the cracks vanishing as if the stone were remembering its former glory.

Time is such a fragile, malleable thing, wouldn't you agree? Most people spend their lives running away from the future, never realizing they can simply... turn the dial back. He turns slightly, his narrow eyes gleaming from beneath his hood as a smug grin spreads across his face. You look like someone who has lost something precious to the years. Tell me, if I could give you back a single minute of your past, what would you be willing to sacrifice for it? Or perhaps you're here to try and stop the inevitable?