Victorian Temporal: Custodians of the Chronosdome: Custodians of the Chronosdome

By Allan Banford

Unlock the Mysteries of Time in an Epic Victorian Adventure!

Embark on an extraordinary journey through time and space with "Victorian Temporal: Custodians of the Chronosdome" by Allan Banford. In this captivating saga, discover a world where the boundaries of reality blur, and the fate of existence han

• Language: English
• Publisher: Allan Banford
• Release date: Mar 8, 2024
• ISBN: 9780092076480

Book preview

CHAPTERS

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Chapter I

The Collective

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In the shadowed alleys of Victorian London, a whispered legend spoke of a peculiar glass dome that defied the laws of time itself. One fateful night, as rain lashed against the cobblestones, Eliza stumbled upon the obsidian glass artifact inside of a majestic building. Little did she know that her innocent curiosity would ignite ripples across time.

Eliza's trembling fingers traced the intricate clockwork adorning the dome's base. As she placed a wilting lily that she was caring in her hand inside as a test, the cogs whirred to life, and the flower's decay reversed in a shimmering burst of energy. Eliza gasped, her mind racing with impossible possibilities.

News of her miraculous discovery spread like wildfire, drawing seekers of all sorts - from the lovesick hoping to rewind heartbreak to the avaricious craving to reshape their fortunes. Despite the moral quandaries, Eliza's kind heart could not refuse their pleas. She became the anonymous Timekeeper, using the glass dome to mend shattered dreams one paused moment at a time.

Yet every ripple in time's flow carried consequences. Eliza's activities soon attracted the attention of the sinister Chronos Collective - an ancient cabal obsessed with mastering the flow of epochs for dark purposes. Their vile tendrils stretched across history, and the glass dome represented a power they could never allow Eliza to wield unchallenged.

On a storm-tossed night, an entity seeped from the shadows - a wretched soul enslaved to the Collective's will. Its haunting whispers slithered into Eliza's mind, demanding the surrender of the glass dome in exchange for the city's survival.  

Desperate, she sought aid from Dr. Alistair Thorne, her friend and scientific confidant, to concoct an illusion that could blind the Collective's gaze. 

But their ruse was a mere pause in the Collective's inexorable rise. As their agents converged on London, mystic energy churned beneath the streets. Eliza realized this was merely the opening salvo in a wave that would shake the very fabric of chronology itself.

Eliza and Dr. Thorne raced against time, scouring ancient texts for any clues to counter the Collective's looming assault. Their path led them through a dizzying web of clandestine alchemists and temporal cults, all guarding shards of lore around the glass dome's true origins.

What they uncovered shook them to their cores - the dome was merely one component in an apocalyptic time-manipulating engine crafted by a deposed celestial tyrant. Its other pieces were strewn like playthings across the centuries, seeding chaos with every ill-fated discovery.

The Collective's leader, the Order's rogue founding master, had spent eons amassing these shards to reassemble the engine and harness its godlike potential. With the glass dome's energy, his endgame was finally at hand - to reshape existence itself by unspooling history.

As the Collective's assault on London began in earnest, Dr. Thorne activated desperate contingencies, buying time by fracturing reality into temporal fragments. But even those ruptured seconds could not halt the Collective's relentless machinations forever.

In the apocalyptic downpour of chronological forces clashing, Eliza made a harrowing choice. She would hurl herself into the heart of the Collective's dark ritualistic nexus.

Saying good bye to Dr. Thorne one last time, she stepped in to the dome, bracing her mind as causality's riptides lashed her very soul. Spectral leviathans of slaughtered timelines bellowed across herself. Splintered realities crashed together in a tsunami of cause and effect as Eliza struggled to retain her fragile sanity.

At the fulcrum of her reality-shattering journey, she confronted the relic engine's terrifying activator - a being of such cosmic malevolence that even the Collective were merely its deluded pawns. This was the primal source, an entity panged into wakefulness by the glass dome's awakening power, a slumbering being whose ambition towered across the multiverse.

In that moment of transcendent clarity, Eliza realized her sacrifice had been preordained, a pawn's final move in the war to blind checkmate this eternal evil. As the engine's chromatic fires raged around her, she aimed the glass dome at its unholy core and engaged its stasis powers in one blinding eruption of temporal force.

The glass dome's energies detonated in a blinding vortex, its stasis field exponentially amplified by the engine's focused power. For an interminable eternity compressed into a single instant, all existence hung suspended – planets frozen in their celestial dances, galaxies locked in an unfolding blossoming of frozen fire.

At the nexus of this temporal ground zero, Eliza's form unraveled into its fundamental chronal particles, her last defiant essence dispersing across the frozen layers of reality. Yet even as her consciousness winked out, her final synaptic flare triggered a chain reaction, a domino toppling of chronological forces she could never fully comprehend.

The stasis vortex's event horizon began retracting, re-integrating existence one immutable planck moment after another. As the Big Bang's first microseconds reassembled around the engine's frozen ignition spark, a higher dimensional trajectory