---
title: "Chapter 1212: Existing Outside of time"
slug: "ch-1219"
novel: "Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100"
number: 1219
views: 0
likes: 0
wordCount: 1356
createdAt: "2026-04-15"
---

The old man’s voice lowered slightly, becoming almost reverent. "The universe has always hidden its truths behind impossible contradictions. Only by creating something that is both you and not you—alive yet unbound, part of time yet untouched by it—can you glimpse the essence of what time truly is."

He stopped before the glowing sphere, placing his palm against its surface. The embryonic world pulsed softly beneath his touch, and faint waves of golden light spread outward like ripples on a tranquil sea. "This world-to-be will accept you," he said quietly. "Its will has not yet been born, and it will recognize your essence as the catalyst for its creation. Through it, your clone will take form—a being meant to comprehend time, untouched by causality."

Max stepped closer, the golden light reflecting in his eyes. He could feel the faint vibration of the embryonic world resonating with something deep within his own existence. It was both comforting and overwhelming, like standing before the origin of life itself.

Old Man First smiled faintly as he looked at him. "This is the path I can offer you, Max," he said. "A way to comprehend the concept of time without destroying yourself in the process."

Max fell silent for a while, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looked at the streams of golden energy flowing through the River of Continuum.

The idea that he could separate the flow of time from himself sounded both fascinating and terrifying. He could feel the weight of the old man’s words from earlier still lingering in his thoughts.

After a long pause, he finally turned toward Old Man First and asked calmly, "How hard is it to split the flow of time and essence within one’s body? And if it is possible, what does it mean for the original body?"

His tone was serious. He wasn’t asking out of idle curiosity—he genuinely wanted to understand. If this method was the "other way" Old Man First had mentioned earlier, then he needed to know everything about it. Max had learned that half measures led only to disaster.

Old Man First looked at him with a faint smile, his expression carrying both admiration and pity. "You catch on quickly," he said softly. "But your question is heavier than you think."

He paused for a moment, then lifted his hand and pointed toward the golden currents flowing around them through the embryonic from of the planet. "Watch carefully. The flow of time and the essence of existence are intertwined like these two rivers. They move together, yet they never truly merge. The essence is what defines your being—your energy, your consciousness, your presence in the world. The flow of time is what carries that essence forward through every heartbeat, every breath, every moment you live."

Max followed the old man’s hand, watching as two glowing currents twisted together in the air like strands of light. One shone with a silver hue—the essence. The other pulsed in a soft gold—the flow of time. They spiraled around each other without touching, yet they moved in perfect rhythm, as if one guided the other.

"To split them," Old Man First continued, "means to separate the river from the current. It means to take away the force that moves your essence through existence and place it into something else—a fragment of yourself that exists outside the flow."

He closed his hand gently, and the golden current separated from the silver one. The moment it did, the golden strand began to flicker and fade, while the silver one turned still and lifeless, like a frozen thread of light. "When you divide them, both lose balance. Time without essence cannot sustain existence, and essence without time cannot move forward. That is the danger."

He turned his gaze back to Max, his expression now serious. "But in theory, if one could succeed—if one could truly split the flow of time from their essence and create a second self infused with that temporal current—then what remains would be extraordinary. The original body would be cut off from the passage of time entirely. It would not age, it would not decay, it would not experience the erosion of existence. It would become detached from time’s influence. You would, in every sense, become timeless."

Old Man First’s tone deepened as he went on. "Your original self would no longer move through the river of life. You would not feel hunger, nor fatigue, nor the weight of passing years. The world around you would change, but you would remain the same—unmoved, untouched, eternal. No natural force could age or kill you, for time itself would not dare to touch you. But such detachment comes with its price."

He looked at the golden flow fading in his hand, letting it dissolve into the air once again. "To remove time from yourself is to remove your connection to the world. You would exist beyond it. You would see life and death as nothing more than moments frozen in glass. People you love would age and vanish, while you would stand unchanged. You would watch centuries pass in the blink of an eye. That is what it means to live without time."

Max listened silently, his brows furrowed as he tried to imagine what that state would feel like. It was beyond comprehension. The idea of being untouched by time sounded almost divine, but the thought of existing forever while everything else decayed around him was unsettling. He could sense the vastness of what the old man described—it was not merely immortality; it was isolation from the rhythm of existence itself.

After a long silence, Max finally said, "So, if someone managed to split the flow of time from their being, their clone would carry that current of time with it. It would move, age, and live as any being would, but the original body would remain outside of all that."

Old Man First nodded. "Exactly. The clone would exist within the laws of time, while the original would exist beyond them. But do not mistake that as balance. You would create two versions of yourself that do not belong to the same reality. The one bound to time would continue to grow, to change, to experience. The one detached from it would remain static. Should they ever meet or connect, the laws of causality would react violently, for two different flows of existence cannot coexist in harmony."

Max’s eyes narrowed. "Then it’s dangerous."

"More than dangerous," Old Man First replied, his voice solemn. "It is nearly impossible. To split the flow of time from your essence is an act even divine beings fear to attempt. It is like an ant dreaming of ascending to godhood. The idea itself is rebellion against the order of existence. No being can simply command time to part from its vessel, for time is not a servant—it is the foundation upon which your existence rests."

He turned to face Max fully, his expression a mixture of sternness and quiet respect. "If you tried this now, your body would collapse under the pressure of two incompatible realities. Your essence would tear apart. Even your body could not stabilize such a fracture, for it was designed to balance elements, not the fundamental laws of existence."

Max looked down, deep in thought. He understood the gravity of it. This was not merely a test of strength but one of comprehension beyond any mortal capacity. Yet, at the same time, something within him stirred—a quiet defiance, an unyielding drive.

Old Man First seemed to sense it, and he smiled faintly once again. "That is why I said it is like an ant dreaming of becoming a god," he said. "Impossible, yes—but even gods were once dreamers. Whether you wish to attempt it or not depends entirely on how far you are willing to go against the laws that bind all things."

The words hung in the air between them, heavy with meaning. Max said nothing, but his eyes gleamed faintly under the starlight. Deep inside, he already knew that one day he would try—no matter how impossible it seemed.