Prologue

Dust settled around the two combatants as they paused. Out of breath, they eyed each other, both knowing that they had finally met an equal. Temporal combat was never easy. Even for someone in peak physical shape, it was far more rigorous than any other martial art. Both of these men were considered the best of their respective times, and had pushed beyond their limits facing off with each other.

The older man spoke first. “I cannot allow you to steal from this tomb, thief of time.”

The younger gave a cocky grin. “I’ll say. But have you ever stopped and thought about what happens to the artifacts I steal?”

The two reengaged in combat and it was a beautiful dance of timing. Both of their bodies blurred and replicated. First four, then six, then ten of them fought. Each one altered history and created minor paradoxes as they jumped in time, deflecting the blows hammering on the earlier incarnations of themselves.

An ancient voice spoke from the crypt in the center of the underground tomb and both men stopped, frozen in their tracks. The voice was ancient, weighted down with the knowledge of the ages.

My name is Zr’van. I am as a god, for I have seen through the ages, and I am the guardian of those ages. I have a task for each of you. You two men, from the far future, whom I would call friends to this god …