The following morning arrived like a lie.
Bright sunlight poured through the shattered curtains of Azrael's apartment, filtering through dust and fragments of divine residue still floating in the air.
Mira's voice echoed from downstairs, sharp as always.
"Don't you dare break anything today!"
Azrael lay on the couch — upside down — staring blankly at the ceiling fan.
He'd been trying to understand it for hours. It spun endlessly in one direction.
"Strange," he murmured. "Even machines chase cycles they'll never complete."
Faith, now in her cat form, stretched lazily on the window sill.
"You've been staring at that thing since dawn. It's just a fan."
"It mimics eternity," he replied. "And humans call it comfort."
She flicked her tail. "Or maybe they just like the breeze."
"Mortals and their symbolism…" He sighed. "Everything they build feels like a prayer they've forgotten the words to."
Faith tilted her head, studying him. There was something in his tone — a quiet ache.
The ache of a god who once commanded stars, now trapped in a city that didn't even know his name.
Morning Mayhem
Mira barged in without knocking — as usual — holding two cups of coffee and a glare sharp enough to cut marble.
"You didn't sleep," she said flatly.
"I don't need to."
"Yeah, well, mortals do. And you make enough noise at night to wake the dead."
Faith meowed from the sill — a soft, almost amused sound. Mira frowned.
"Why does that cat look at me like it's judging my life choices?"
Azrael, completely serious, said, "Because she is."
Mira froze. "You talk to cats now?"
Faith's voice brushed Azrael's mind. "Tell her yes. It's fun to confuse her."
"Yes," he said aloud.
Mira stared between them, then groaned. "You're both insane."
She sat the coffee down beside him, rubbing her temples. "Look, I don't care what you are. Angel, magician, cosmic glow stick — whatever. But if anyone else sees what I saw last night, you'll have half the city here with cameras and drones."
Azrael tilted his head. "You think humans would fear what they see?"
"No," she said softly. "They'd want to use it. And that's worse."
For the first time, Azrael looked at her with something like respect.
"You speak as if you've seen this before."
Her eyes darkened. "Let's just say I've known what happens when people find something they can't explain. They stop asking questions… and start calling it property."
Faith's silver eyes glowed faintly. "She's not wrong."
Azrael said nothing, but a flicker of unease passed through him — the faint memory of chains made of light, of gods being sealed in mortal flesh.
[🔔 System Notification: Emotional Analysis.]
["Subject 'Azrael' is developing empathy. Efficiency of divinity usage will fluctuate."]
He muttered under his breath, "You're still talking."
["Always. I observe. I learn."]
"Then learn quietly."
["Request denied."]
Faith purred from the windowsill, clearly enjoying his annoyance. "Your little voice is becoming self-aware. Maybe it's evolving with you."
["Correction,"] the System replied, ["User's imperfections are influencing my parameters."]
Azrael frowned. "Imperfections make us divine."
The System paused for a beat. ["…Processing…"]
Faith grinned mentally. "You broke it."
The city was alive that day — cars roaring, phones buzzing, screens flickering with headlines.
But beneath the chaos, something else pulsed.
Azrael felt it first. A strange tremor — not physical, but spiritual.
His senses flared, eyes briefly shimmering with divine light.
Faith looked up sharply. "You felt that too?"
He nodded. "A resonance. South district. Something ancient is waking."
[🔔 System Alert: Divine Fragment Signature Detected.]
["Classification: Zeta-Class — Artifact Origin: Temporal God, 'Kronos.'"]
Azrael's heart — if it could still be called that — beat faster.
"Time…" he whispered. "That power shouldn't exist here."
Faith jumped down from the window, tail flicking anxiously. "If Kronos's ring is active, then something—or someone—is feeding it divine essence."
Mira looked up from her coffee, confused. "What are you two whispering about now?"
Azrael turned to her. "Stay inside tonight."
"Why? What's happening?"
He met her eyes, voice quiet but firm. "The city's heart is about to skip a beat."
Night fell fast.
Neon lights flickered across empty alleys as Azrael and Faith walked through the rain-slick streets.
The sound of distant thunder echoed through skyscrapers.
Faith perched on his shoulder in cat form, tail twitching nervously.
"You realize if that ring really belongs to Kronos, it won't just control time—it'll twist it."
Azrael nodded slowly. "Then we stop it before time itself forgets us."
[🔔 System Update: Scanning for anomaly signatures...]
["Warning: Multiple entities converging on same location."]
From the rooftops above, shadows moved.
Masked figures—each carrying strange glowing relics—leapt across the buildings.
Faith's fur bristled. "Relic hunters. The human kind."
Azrael's expression hardened. "They can sense the fragments?"
"They can't," she replied. "But something—or someone—is guiding them."
Lightning flashed. For a second, the rain illuminated the broken clock tower at the city's edge—
—and at its base, a faint golden ring pulsed in midair, spinning slowly, defying gravity.
Azrael's pupils dilated. "The Ring of Kronos…"
Faith's telepathic voice whispered, heavy with dread. "It's awake."
A man stepped from the shadows of the tower, his coat soaked with rain, eyes glowing faintly red.
The same man from the tunnels.
He raised his hand toward the ring. "The time of gods is not over. It's only buried."
Azrael felt his divinity flare instinctively. "Faith. Stay behind me."
She leapt down beside him, eyes narrowing. "You can't fight him head-on—not yet."
The System buzzed rapidly.
[⚠️ Warning: Power differential detected.]
["Enemy Divinity Output: 3.7x User's Current Capacity."]
Azrael smirked. "Then I'll adapt."
He lifted his hand, air trembling. Mystic Light erupted — a radiant sphere of burning gold and crackling white.
The man smiled darkly. "A fallen one, wielding light. How poetic."
Faith's voice rang in Azrael's mind. "He's channeling the Ring! Don't let it touch you!"
The man thrust his palm forward — and time itself bent.
Raindrops froze midair. Lightning hung motionless in the clouds.
Everything stopped.
Azrael blinked, moving through stillness as if it were water.
His divinity resisted the pause — weakly, but enough.
Thirty seconds. That was all he had.
He whispered to himself, "Then thirty seconds will be enough."
---
Chapter 6 — "The Kronos Fragment: City of Echoes (Part I)"
(same full story you already read above)
---
⚔️ [Divine Archive Entry No. 001 — The Ring of Kronos]
Classification: Zeta-Class Divine Relic
Origin: Temporal God Kronos, Keeper of the First Clock
Properties:
Bends localized time streams within a 300-meter radius.
Each activation drains 1 minute from the wielder's lifespan per second of frozen time.
Responds only to those who bear remnants of divine chronology or corrupted essence.
Status: Reactivated after 4,000 years of dormancy. Current resonance detected within the city of Elyndra.
Legend says: "Those who hold time in their hands forget how to live within it."