The teleport was anything but smooth.
As Kael crossed the portal, he felt as though every cell in his body had been pulled in opposite directions.
A sign of intense temporal interference.
---
Year: 3167 B.C.
Location: The Northern Walls – a chain of colossal stone formations in the far north of Europe, forgotten even by LIGA's maps.
The landscape was cold, dense, and scattered with ruins that didn't belong to that time.
They looked as if they'd been built by hands from the future.
Kael activated the disc.
The anomaly was close.
As he moved through the ancient walls, something was watching him.
He could feel it.
---
In a narrow gap between two stones, he found a symbol:
the same one from the cave.
But it had been violently scratched — as if someone wanted to erase it.
Nearby, he discovered something else:
a shard of metallic fabric.
Technology that had no place in this era.
Then a voice echoed — low, deep:
— You shouldn't be here.
Kael spun, alert.
Nothing.
The voice returned:
— Turn back, Pedra. This line is not yours.
---
Kael pressed on.
Climbing atop one of the massive walls, he saw the impossible:
Another portal.
Open.
Stable.
But not LIGA's.
And before it, a hooded figure.
Tall.
Still.
Kael didn't approach.
But he felt it —
that presence was his.
But twisted.
Corrupted.
---
He wouldn't cross. Not yet.
But he knew:
The next crossing wouldn't be just a journey.
It would be a confrontation.