The temple of time.

The footprints on the sand started to appear as every wave hit the shore.
They grew deeper with each wave. Then a foot began to form from the dry sand around the edges of the prints.
A leg, a torso, and then a head—stepping backward at the edge of the beach as every footprint on the sand disappeared in front of her.

Her hair moved in all directions, as if caught in different gusts of wind.
Stepping backward, she moved away from the beach toward a door with glowing green runes forming a circle. After she stepped inside, the door disappeared and time resumed its forward motion.

Inside, there was an official reception area with two gray couches. A clipboard with a pen hung on the wall. Above it, a sign read NAME, with an arrow pointing down.
She wrote her name on the clipboard and sat on one of the couches.

Past the reception desk, there was a hallway lined with many doors. One of them opened, and behind it she could see the universe. From that door, a figure emerged—a tall figure wearing a lab coat.

“Please, this way,” said the figure. “Let’s see.”

The figure grabbed the clipboard and put on glasses where eyes should have been.
“Ah. You performed the time ritual at the temple. Impressive. But now you need some new lines in those hands,” the figure said as they walked into space.

A desk and a few chairs floated nearby.
“Let’s see… what do I get…” The figure pushed against a non-existent cabinet and opened a door.

They pulled out long metal shapes, like the ones used to brand animals.
“All right, let’s see which of these… ah, yes.”

The figure placed the remaining irons on the desk, then walked toward another invisible wall and pulled open a door that led into a raging fire. One of the irons was placed inside.

“Just give it a couple of minutes. So—was it worth it? Did you fix it?” the figure asked.

“I hope so. I mean, I guess it all depends on what you give me,” she said, pointing toward the fire.

“Ah, yes. I suppose we’ll see,” the figure replied.

She looked at the irons on the desk, then down at her wrinkleless palms. She bit her thumb, drawing a bit of blood, and flicked her hand toward the fire.

A single drop landed on the iron, just as planned—and she began to modify its shape, reshaping it into what it had been before the ritual.

She found the temple in the middle of the jungle—long lost to those without magic.
It was said to give those who entered a chance to fix the past, to change a moment in time.

Following old maps from old books, she found the way inside, guided by legend. She placed her hand against the first door, just as the margins of the map instructed. Then, looking down at the book, she read the incantation.

The heavy door groaned, and a red circle flared around her hand. The rock surface began to melt, swallowing her hand entirely. The glow dimmed, and the door released her.

When she looked down, one of the lines in her palm was gone.

Beyond the door, a staircase carved from stone descended into a dark cave. She slipped the map back into the book, the book into her bag, and whispered words in an ancient language. A small flame sparked to life in the center of her palm.

At the bottom of the stairs, seven doors stood in a row, each sealed behind solid rock. She took out the map and studied the writing.

If you’ve made it this far, you should know it is too late. You must see this choice through to the end.

Beside it, a note pointed her to a page in the book.

Divination in the palm: life, love, and fortune. In your hands, the future and the present.

She looked at her palm again—now missing one line.

The temple had already taken life. She was trapped, with only one option left: to complete the ritual.

One rock jutted out from the wall, distinct from the rest. She reached for it, but it crumbled into dust in her grasp. As the grains slipped through her fingers, she recognized the substance—used in ancient practices to locate magic.

She threw the dust into the air, reciting incantations. It began to glow, then drifted toward one of the doors, forming a thin, luminous line.

She pressed her hand against it.

The door took another line from her palm—fortune.

The stone sealing the door melted away, and she stepped through.

On the other side, a vast cavern opened before her, its center filled with towering stone pillars. She descended crooked steps and cast another spell. A green fire ignited between the pillars.

From her bag, she pulled five runes and tossed them into the flame. For a moment the fire shrank—then surged, growing brighter as the runes lifted and hovered above it.

She thrust her hand into the fire and finished the spell, speaking the words she had found in the book.

The flame twisted, reshaping itself into burning tongs that wrapped around her arm. It flared brighter, then began to flow into the final line on her palm.

As the fire vanished into the line, the line itself turned to ash and fell away.

The runes snapped into motion, flying toward a door and arranging themselves into a glowing circle. She approached and reached for the handle.

A silent shockwave pulsed outward, rattling the entire temple.

Think of the day, and step through the door, she remembered from the book.

Slowly, the door opened.

She walked through.

The creature pulled the iron from the fire.

“Will it hurt?” she asked.

“What? This?” the creature said, glancing at it. “Oh no. This doesn’t go on your hands.”

It turned and opened a cabinet packed with folders.

“Yes—this one,” it said, running its fingers along the spines. It pulled out a file, flipped it open, scanned a few lines, and laid it on the desk.

As it branded the page, she felt the lines returning to her palms. Words, letters, and memories surged back into her mind. The wrinkles on her hands reappeared one by one, etching themselves into place.

Halfway through, the creature spoke without looking up.

“We can’t let you leave. Not now that you know where the temple is. You can’t be allowed to tamper with time again.”

She looked up at the faceless creature as memories flooded her head.

Trapped in one place, straight into another, she thought.

She whispered a word. The drop of blood on her palm sharpened into a spike and shot forward, piercing straight through the creature’s head—without causing any harm.

“Good try,” the creature said calmly.

She was already out of the chair and running.

She tried to remember where the door was, but there was nothing—only space in every direction.

She ran as fast as she could, wrenching planets out of orbit to slow the creature. She tore stars from the dark and hurled them back with spells.

The creature stayed close behind, restoring order as it moved—sliding planets back into place, returning each star to its exact position.

Then she saw Earth.

She angled toward it and cast another spell, shrinking herself as she fell, aiming to disappear into the planet before the creature could catch her.

She froze the wave where she landed and slid down into the water. Freezing the surface ahead of her, she ran toward the shore.

High above, the creature reached down, trying to follow her—but missed. To the people standing on the beach, it looked as if the universe itself melted inside the planet for a brief moment, then snapped back into place.

When she reached the shore and finally stopped running, something felt different.

She looked down at her hands.

A new kind of power stirred there. She could feel time as a dimension of its own. When she focused, she could almost see it—
a flowing veil of light, like the northern lights, stretching endlessly.

She could pull it.
Pause it.
Stretch it.

She didn’t need words anymore.

With the new lines etched into her palms, she could feel time itself—soft, responsive, like fabric beneath her fingers.