The dust from the battle with the Eclipse is still settling. Lys stands amidst the chaos of the battlefield, his form shimmering with the last remnants of his Seraphim Ascension. The world feels heavy, but there's a strange sense of calm that settles in after the battle's intensity.
The team regroups, their bodies still trembling from the power of the fight.
Rafael cracks a smile as he claps Lys on the shoulder.
"I gotta admit, I thought you were going to burn out halfway through that fight."
Rafael cracks a smile as he claps Lys on the shoulder.
"I gotta admit, I thought you were going to burn out halfway through that fight."
Lys doesn't return the smile.
"I can barely feel my limbs."
But despite the exhaustion, there's a flicker of something else beneath his golden eyes—a sense of foreboding.
Kaede, always attuned to the flow of Aetherium, suddenly stops. She places her hand on the ground, her face grim.
"We're not alone."
Anika, who had been keeping a low profile until now, narrows her eyes and raises her hand.
"Something's coming."
Lys feels it too—time itself seems to bend, warp in unnatural ways. A strange vibration pulses through the air, one that resonates deeply with his own transformed state. It's like something is being woven into the very fabric of existence around them.
For a moment, the world seems to freeze. The air, heavy with Aetherium and void energy, feels fragile—as though reality itself is holding its breath.
Then—without warning—
The Incarnation of the Time Dragon
A tear in space rips open.
The sky fractures, twisting in impossible angles, as the air is filled with the sound of wind—but not normal wind. This is a wind of ages, carrying with it the weight of millennia.
A figure emerges.
Clad in robes of iridescent gold and deep blues, their eyes shimmer with the wisdom of time itself. They are not human, not even entirely humanoid. Their form shifts, like a spectral entity, a mixture of light, shadow, and flowing energy.
Their draconic presence is undeniable—scales shimmer beneath their robes, and a faint, glowing dragon's silhouette appears behind them, shifting through time.
"So…" the figure speaks, their voice deep, carrying the weight of ages. "You are the one who stands against the flow."
Lys, still feeling the rawness of his battle, meets the figure's eyes with unflinching resolve.
"Who are you?"
The figure smiles faintly, their lips curling in a knowing way.
"I am Kheara," the Incarnation says, stepping forward. "And I've been watching you, Lys. You are more than just a pawn in the grand scheme. You are an anomaly—a crack in the timeline itself."
Lys doesn't flinch.
"I'm not here to play your games," Lys says, his voice firm.
Kheara tilts his head, his glowing eyes studying Lys.
"Oh, Lys, it's never been a game," Kheara says with a slow smile. "This is about destiny. And you are caught in the currents of time—whether you choose to accept it or not."
He raises a hand, and the world around them begins to warp—the ground beneath them buckles slightly as time bends. The sky itself seems to ripple, like water in a pond disturbed by a stone.
"You think your fight with the Eclipse has significance?" Kheara continues, his voice calm, almost soothing. "You believe you've won a victory? No, Lys—this is only the beginning. Time moves, and nothing stops it."
Lys feels his Aetherium energy respond, his form still shimmering from the Seraphim Ascension. But this is something entirely different. Kheara isn't just another enemy. He manipulates time, and time bends around him.
"You think you control your destiny," Kheara says, "but you can't even control time."
The air grows dense with power. Lys instinctively tightens his stance, his claws flexing, his golden eyes locked onto Kheara. The golden light in his eyes intensifies, a reflection of his Aetherium power surging through him.
"I control my own fate," Lys says, his voice hardening. "And I won't let you dictate it."
Kheara's smile widens.
With a wave of his hand, time fractures—the world around them seems to snap and split. Lys is suddenly ripped from the present, thrown into a future that doesn't make sense. The sky is torn apart. The buildings collapse. The world is dying.
But Lys fights back. He refuses to accept this future. With a burst of his power, he snaps the distortion, pulling himself back into the present.
Kheara laughs softly, the sound echoing across the ruined space.
"You are strong, Lys. But strength alone cannot bend time."
The Incarnation raises his hand again, and this time, the entire sky turns to shadow. Time itself freezes.
Lys feels the weight of the future, the past, and the present all pushing down on him. The world is collapsing under the weight of Kheara's power.
But Lys isn't done yet.
He steps forward, focusing on the Aetherium coursing through his veins, focusing his will. The Seraphim Ascension flares to life again, and he embraces the energy flowing through him. This isn't just about power anymore—this is about will.
He pushes back against the temporal collapse.
"I will not be a victim of fate," Lys says, his voice shaking the very ground beneath him.
With a mighty roar, Lys releases a shockwave of Aetherium, crashing into the temporal distortion and shattering the flow of time itself.
The air stills. The sky, once shattered by Kheara's presence, slowly returns to normal. But Lys knows this isn't over. Kheara stands before him, unscathed, though there's a slight shift in his expression—something like respect.
"Interesting," Kheara says. "I thought for sure you'd break under the weight of time. But you've shown me something I rarely see."
Lys stands tall, though his body is exhausted from the battle.
"Time doesn't control me," Lys says firmly. "I control what I choose."
Kheara nods slowly.
"Very well. I won't force you into submission… yet. But know this, Lys: Time waits for no one. And you cannot outrun it forever."
With a final flick of his wrist, Kheara begins to fade, his form dissolving into the currents of time.
"I will be watching you," he whispers, his voice fading like an echo.