For a long moment, neither Aarav nor the stranger spoke. The room felt too small, too quiet, too bright for a conversation that clearly didn't belong to ordinary life.
The stranger closed the door behind him and scanned the room once—as if checking for things Aarav couldn't even notice.
Only then did he speak.
"You really don't know anything about the watch, do you?"
Aarav frowned. "I found it. That's it. I didn't even activate it on purpose."
"That's the problem."
The man leaned against the wall. "Accidental activation is the most dangerous type."
Aarav crossed his arms. "You still haven't told me who you are."
The stranger held his gaze.
"My name is Soren."
Aarav blinked. He wasn't sure what he expected, but it wasn't that.
Strange name. Calm voice. Eyes that looked like they had seen a hundred lifetimes.
"Soren," Aarav repeated. "Okay. Now tell me the truth. Start from the beginning."
Soren nodded.
"There is a group called the Timekeepers," he said. "A secret organization that was formed centuries ago—long before clocks became common. They don't control time. They protect it."
Aarav tried not to laugh. It sounded ridiculous… except nothing about the last two days had been normal.
"And the watch?" Aarav asked slowly.
Soren walked to the table and placed his hand flat on it, as if grounding himself before explaining.
"That watch you found is older than you can imagine. It's one of the Seven Anchors—objects that can bend time, memories, or fixed events. Only one person at a time is chosen by an Anchor."
Aarav's eyes widened.
"Chosen? I didn't ask for it."
"Anchors don't ask permission," Soren said quietly. "They respond to imbalance. To regret. To unfinished moments."
The words struck Aarav harder than he expected.
Soren noticed.
"You regret something deeply," he said. Not a question—a statement.
Aarav looked away.
"It doesn't matter."
"It matters to the watch," Soren replied. "Anchors read the emotional imprint of their bearer. That's why you didn't relive yesterday normally—you jumped into a memory thread. That only happens when the regret is strong."
Aarav's chest tightened.
He remembered the moment—the mistake—that still haunted him.
He didn't want to talk about it.
Not now.
"So what do the Timekeepers want from me?" Aarav asked, forcing a steady voice.
Soren shook his head. "I'm not here on their behalf. The Timekeepers don't even know you have the watch yet."
A chill ran through Aarav's spine.
"So—who are you to them?"
Soren hesitated before answering.
"I used to be one of them."
Used to be.
The weight of those words hung between them.
"What happened?" Aarav asked.
Soren took a slow breath. "I broke a rule. The biggest one."
Aarav waited.
"I used my Anchor for personal reasons," Soren said finally. "To save someone I cared about. And when you do that… time takes something back."
Aarav felt a sting in his chest.
So Soren knew this regret—this temptation—better than anyone.
The man straightened. "Now listen carefully. This is the most important thing you'll hear tonight."
Aarav nodded.
"The watch chose you because your regret is unresolved. If you try to fix it using time, you may succeed once… but the cost will follow."
"What cost?"
"You'll get stuck between days. Between memories. And once that happens, even I can't pull you out."
Aarav's grip tightened around the watch in his pocket. "Then what am I supposed to do?"
Soren stepped closer, lowering his voice.
"You're supposed to learn to control it. Not let it control you."
Aarav swallowed.
"And you're going to teach me?"
"For now," Soren said. "But the Timekeepers will eventually notice the Anchor's activation. Others will look for you. People who don't want you to learn."
Aarav's heartbeat quickened. "Why not?"
"Because an uncontrolled bearer can change too much," Soren said softly. "And some people don't want time to be changed at all."
Aarav stared at Soren.
"So what happens now?"
Soren glanced at the window as if sensing something outside.
"Now," he said, "we test whether the watch truly chose you… or if it was an accident we can reverse."
Aarav felt the room grow colder.
"How do we test that?"
Soren looked directly into his eyes.
"We go back. Together."