(POV – Victor Hale)
Victor couldn't say it was the first time he'd seen the [Angel of Death] enraged. It was a rare occurrence — so rare it felt like the stars themselves had to align for it to happen again.
And yet, it happened. On the few occasions Victor had witnessed that fury, the outcome had always been the same: the [Angel of Death]'s enemies never lived to see daylight again.
This time, however, was different. Victor knew that the enemy they faced wasn't something simple — not one of those threats you could take on just because you were angry and had plenty of determination to spare. He could feel the weight of possibilities collapsing around him, fearing every scenario where things might go wrong.
It wasn't only his own fate that worried him, but also the danger this could pose to the [Angel of Death]. As unlikely as it sounded, Victor had come to see her not just as an ally, but as a companion... maybe even as a friend.
A strange friend? Sure. An absurdly powerful friend, capable of bringing about the world's end? Also true. But above all, she was someone you could trust — someone who would reach out without hesitation in the darkest moments. No matter how unpredictable she was, she never failed to help those she truly cared about.
Of course, as much as Victor worried about the [Angel of Death], his little sister also lingered in his thoughts. Yet again, he found himself powerless. There was nothing he could do — in fact, there was nothing any human could do.
All that remained was to watch, tense and silent, and wait for the outcome of the clash between those two entities — beings as distant and overwhelming as forces of nature themselves.
Victor stood quietly, one step behind, as the [Angel of Death] approached what he could only describe as a Tentacle — though he wasn't even sure that's what it truly was. The [Angel of Death] wasn't exactly walking; her movement was more like floating... or perhaps swimming.
Beads of sweat slid down Victor's face, even though the place wasn't hot — or cold, for that matter. That space — if one could even call it that — seemed suspended between both extremes. He swallowed hard, unsure what unsettled him more: the Tentacle before him, or the calm, unreadable way the [Angel of Death] glided toward it.
Lost in thought as he watched the [Angel of Death] — that strange being whose form resembled a tentacle — Victor was pulled out of his trance by a voice at his side: "It's been a while since I've seen my sister with that expression" The words were spoken in a completely neutral tone, devoid of emotion, as if stating something ordinary. Naturally, the voice belonged to his little sister.
"I can imagine..." Victor murmured, a nervous half-smile tugging at his lips: "Since the day I met her, she's barely changed her expression" He paused, his eyes drifting as if recalling a specific memory. An ironic smile curved his lips before he added: "Except when she's eating ice cream. Her lips move just a few centimeters... but it's so subtle you could almost miss it"
After his words, he felt her gaze on him. Turning, he found Sara's eyes fixed on him — calm, curious, attentive. For a moment, neither said anything. Then, in a way surprisingly natural for the current Sara, a faint smile appeared at the corner of her lips — so slight it was almost imperceptible.
"Ice cream is good" she murmured softly.
Victor blinked, surprised by the unexpected response. Even so, something about it made him feel strangely relieved: "Right..." he chuckled quietly: "I remember you always liked strawberry ice cream" A faint smile crossed his face as he added: "When we get out of here, we'll have some — you, me... and the [Angel of Death]"
Victor noticed Sara's silent, intense stare before she finally nodded. He couldn't tell whether it was out of satisfaction or simple acceptance, but he chose to believe it was the former.
Still, another thought crossed his mind: (Well... I guess all I can do now is trust the [Angel of Death]. Or at least, that's what my instincts are telling me) He let out an ironic smile. In the end, for as long as he could remember, the [Angel of Death] — in her own strange and unpredictable ways — always ended up winning. Always.
***
(POV – Protagonist)
My gaze, fixed on the "Flow of Time" was so cold that even I found it unsettling. I hadn't realized I was capable of such an expression — empty, frigid, almost inhuman.
I could clearly see my reflection — still, tense... and yet overflowing with silent rage. Yeah, I was angry. Inside and out. In a way words could never fully describe.
It wasn't unusual for me to feel anger internally, but seeing it surface outwardly was, in a way, new. My face almost never changed — like a permanent mask. That's why seeing my own features twisted like that now was... frightening.
It felt strange, unsettling — like staring at another version of myself. It was that same eerie sensation you get when you look in the mirror and, for a split second, realize the reflection staring back isn't actually you.
But setting that aside, I still didn't know whether the "Flow of Time" had actually received — or even understood — my message. Technically, it didn't have anything like a "mind" capable of thought or reflection.
Even so, it was impossible to deny: it had sensed the subtle, suffocating shift that filled the air around us. Proof of that was the moment it turned its focus — once fixed on Chronas with near-obsessive attention — and redirected it entirely toward me.
I didn't move an inch. I stayed exactly where I was, staring at the "Flow" before me — and, curiously, it seemed to stare right back. One of its tentacles slowly drifted closer, gliding through the air like a curious serpent, examining every particle around us.
I could feel the energy vibrating in the air, a barely perceptible touch probing something deep inside me. Or rather... probing my energy. And how did I know that? Simple. This wasn't exactly the first time something like this had happened.
I don't remember when or why, but this scene isn't unfamiliar. I get the feeling I've been through it countless times before — the same actions, the same emptiness in my chest, the same silence all around.
Still, no matter how hard I try, I can't recall how it ended. All I know is that if I'm alive right now, it must've worked out somehow... or at least, that's what I want to believe.
That's also why I feel so confident — besides, of course, being completely pissed that some insignificant little thing thinks it can monopolize my sister. I'm the older brother; there's no way in hell I'm letting that happen.
The tentacle kept moving closer, gliding with eerie grace as it coiled around me, as if studying me up close. I could feel its cold touch, scanning every fragment of my being.
Despite the confidence I tried to keep, the truth was, I had no idea how to fight — not if it came down to that. After all, we were literally inside time — and how do you even fight something like that?
I didn't know how far its power extended compared to Chronas's, but one thing was certain: whatever this was, it definitely wasn't something I could afford to underestimate.
My anomalous power — Golden Dimension, as I decided to call it — shares a few similarities with temporal control. Still, even I know it's not true time manipulation. The enemies don't actually freeze inside my circle; it's me who moves so absurdly fast that everything around seems frozen.
But would that ability even work on this thing? Honestly, I had no clue. Maybe it would, simply because this wasn't Chronas... yet that didn't change the fact that the Flow of Time was practically its own entity — a consciousness born from time itself, yet separate from her.
A creation of Chronas, made so she wouldn't feel so alone in that vast, silent space. In the end, it was my fault. I never made time for her — for any of them, really.
My sisters always stayed isolated in their own domains, and I'd only visit once in a while, as if that were enough. I regret that. I always have. But back then, it was necessary... or at least that's what I kept telling myself.
Now, I can't even remember the exact reason — I just know it was. Still, setting aside all those gloomy thoughts, I considered myself ready — maybe a bit less confident than when I'd stepped forward to face the Flow of Time before Chronas, but confident enough.
Even so, not even in my wildest guesses could I have imagined what was about to happen next. The tentacle, which until then had been circling me like a serpent assessing its prey, brushed against my back — a cold, almost curious touch.
And in that instant, something inside me stirred — like a kind of "radar" sweeping through my body from the inside out. The sensation was strange, but not threatening, so I stayed still, just watching.
Then, suddenly, the radar hit something. I felt it clearly — a barrier, a presence that blocked its reach. The moment it happened, the radar recoiled violently, like it had just touched fire.
At the same time, the tentacle behind me shuddered. Its sinuous form began trembling from tip to base, as if a chill had run through it... or maybe it was fear.
It wasn't just the tentacle — the entire "Sea" around us started to tremble... or maybe sway? The waves were moving in this strange way, almost like the ocean itself was breathing unevenly.
Not knowing what to do, I just stood there, motionless, trying to keep a cold, unshaken expression — even though inside, I was completely stunned, wondering if that thing was, I don't know... running a fever or something.
And then, as if I were some kind of wild beast ready to strike, the tentacle abruptly withdrew. The movement was so fast, so sudden, that for a brief moment, I could've sworn it had simply teleported from one place to another.
I stood there in complete silence, unable to react. The scene in front of me was so absurd that, for a moment, I actually thought I might be seeing things. Behind me, Victor broke the silence—his voice carried the same disbelief that had frozen me in place: "What did you do?"
What did I do? Honestly, I'd like to know that myself! I mean... that thing tried to probe me, and all I did was stand there and watch. Then, out of nowhere, it started shaking on its own and vanished—some kind of teleportation, maybe. And now, somehow, I'm the one who looks like the villain in all this. How does that even make sense?
As I watched the tentacle move on the other side, my mind shrank to a single question — confused, dazed, almost desperate: (Seriously... what the hell just happened just now?)