I wasn’t really sure how to begin. I an, it was true that I could feel sothing — a faint, almost imperceptible presence — emanating from Chronas. Even so, how exactly was I supposed to control it?
According to Althea, it would happen naturally; she said I would simply know, that it would be as instinctive as breathing is to humans. After all, that power was still a part of — dormant, maybe, but still mine.
And yet, the minutes dragged on without anything happening. I tried, with every ounce of focus I had, to control that presence I’d felt within Chronas — but all I managed were faint tremors, subtle ripples, nothing that truly suggested a real reaction.
Frustration began to eat away at . Maybe I was doing sothing wrong... maybe the mistake was trying to force control in the first place. If that power was truly a part of , then it existed to serve , right? In that case, I just had to will it — simply want it. And that’s exactly what I tried.
Instead of attempting to control the energy through sheer force, I decided to simply guide it. At first glance, both thods might seem similar, but there’s a subtle difference between them. In the first case, I was imposing my will upon the energy — forcing it to obey .
That thod worked — at least partially — but not in the way I expected. There was sothing... off about it. I couldn’t pinpoint what was wrong, but instinctively, I could feel that sothing was deeply out of place.
However, when I tried the second thod, the results were completely different. The presence emanating from Chronas obeyed — not through force, but by its own will.
I felt it clearly: it wanted to obey. There was a quiet joy there, a faint warmth, as if it were happy to finally respond to again.
Was that how it was supposed to be? That simple? I rembered Althea’s words — that controlling one’s own Authority was as natural as breathing — but I hadn’t expected it to be literally that simple.
Even so, I still had no idea what exactly my Authority was. I an, that presence I could feel — sohow, I knew it was connected to . It was a deep, almost living bond.
And along with it ca this strange certainty that the energy could do anything. Whatever I desired. With a single thought, it could shape reality to my will.
The “Cocoon” I created for Althea had only been a glimpse — the surface of sothing much greater, sothing I was only beginning to understand. For now, though, I decided to set it aside and focus all my attention on Chronas.
***
(POV – Victor Hale)
Victor stood just a few inches away from the [Angel of Death] — and from his younger sister, Sara. His arms were crossed, and he silently watched the situation unfold. There was no denying it: the whole thing made him uneasy.
Or maybe uneasy wasn’t even the right word — it was a strange feeling, hard to define. Even with Sara’s new appearance, even knowing that she no longer shared his blood, Victor couldn’t see her any differently. To him, she was still his sister — and nothing would ever change that.
But... did she still feel the sa way? That thought had been haunting Victor for a while now. The little sister he once knew — the girl he used to take to the park, who would smile at the smallest things — was gone. The person in front of him now was cold, distant, almost unrecognizable.
His sister had always been warm, full of life; this “Sara” though, seed made of ice. Victor wasn’t even sure if the Sara standing before him still cared about him at all. Did she still see him as the older brother who once protected her? Unfortunately, there was no answer — only silence.
“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Emily asked, her voice tinged with hesitation. She stood beside Victor, and the soft sound of her words made him turn toward her: “I an... with Sara losing the form she has now”
Victor studied Emily for a mont, his gaze lingering on the calm lines of her face before turning back to Sara, who sat quietly at the edge of the bed. He didn’t know what to say.
Inside, everything was a storm — emotions clashing, thoughts colliding. Still, sowhere in the chaos, a part of him remained clear-headed enough to understand that, painful as it was, this was the right decision.
“Honestly, I don’t know” Victor admitted with a weary sigh. For a mont, silence stretched between them before his eyes drifted back to Sara: “But...” he murmured, hesitating briefly, “as long as it’s good for Sara, then it’s good for too”
Emily didn’t answer right away — and Victor didn’t expect her to. For several seconds, silence hung between them — heavy, but not uncomfortable. Then, Emily let out a quiet, restrained laugh, as if holding sothing deeper back. Her lips curved into a small smile before she finally said: “I see... you’re a good brother, Victor. Sara — whether this one or the one from before — I’m sure both are proud to have you by their side”
Victor took a few seconds before responding, his gaze fixed on Sara’s cold, distant face. Finally, he murmured softly: “I hope that’s really the case”
“Besides” Emily added in a near whisper — quiet, yet just loud enough to draw Victor’s attention: “if you think about it logically, this situation isn’t all bad” He turned toward her, frowning in confusion.
“Think about it” she continued, a faint trace of irony in her voice: “We live in a dangerous world — anomalous cases happen almost every day, and each one seems worse than the last. At least you can be sure your sister isn’t in danger”
Emily paused, crossing her arms with a half-smile: “If anything, it’s the other anomalies that should be worried about her”
Victor didn’t respond; he simply remained silent. Still, deep down, he knew she was right — of all the misfortunes in the world, at least this one carried a small spark of hope.
For a brief mont, both he and Emily remained silent, their eyes fixed on Sara, who was still seated on the bed. The air felt suspended—heavy with anticipation. Then, sothing began to happen.
Tiny, faintly pulsing lights started to appear on Sara’s skin, as if escaping through invisible cracks. The [Angel of Death] kept her eyes closed, one hand raised—still, serene—seemingly in perfect control of the phenonon that was about to unfold before them.
The silence hanging in the air was broken by a faint, almost imperceptible sound—the distant ticking of a clock. At first, it seed to co from everywhere and nowhere, a gentle rhythm that made the air tremble with each beat, as if space itself had gained a pulse.
The lights emanating from Sara’s body began to slow, pulsing in sync with that subtle rhythm, until each glow beca more spaced out, more restrained.
Ti... simply stopped. Emily, Victor, and Laura felt it imdiately—sothing had happened. The sound vanished, and a strange stillness took hold of everything around them. It wasn’t just a feeling; they could see the change.
Dust particles, which had been lazily dancing in the soft light, suddenly froze midair. The vapor of Victor’s breath hung motionless before his lips—a suspended mist, unmoving, almost crystalline. And then, in that instant, she appeared.
From the center of the room, the air began to twist and distort until a fissure of pure light tore open in the void—right where Sara had been just monts earlier. The glow was blinding, almost alive, pulsing like a divine heart.
From within it, a figure began to erge—of average height, standing on the boundary between childhood and adolescence, with an ethereal grace and a beauty that transcended any human form.
Her skin was dark as the deepest abyss, yet it reflected entire constellations, shimring as though her body were woven from the fabric of the cosmos itself. With every movent, she left behind luminous trails that unfolded in the air.
But her eyes were what drew the most attention. Instead of pupils, white gears turned slowly within them—intricate, interlocked with almost living precision, glowing with a silvery light that seed to hold whole ages within its shine. With each rotation, a faint tallic sound echoed—the distant tick-tock of an ancient clock, as though marking the rhythm of sothing far greater.
Her hair wasn’t long—barely brushing her shoulders. The strands, white and translucent as mist under light, floated silently, moving in slow waves as if subrged in an unseen sea. Between them, tiny shards of ti-glass glittered softly.
A cold, solemn aura filled the room, silencing even the air. The space around her seed to bend, distorting light and sound, as if reality itself faltered before her presence. There was sothing divine about her—but also sothing terribly ancient, a primordial echo that seed to co from the first breaths of creation.
The gears within her eyes halted for a brief mont. A soft radiance pulsed through her body—like a wave of restrained energy. For an instant, Victor, Emily, and Laura felt the change—the air, once frozen and still, began to flow again, and the world around them slowly stirred back to motion.
And then “Sara”—or whatever she had beco—raised her hand. In that instant, the world began to move again. Ti, once untamable, now bowed before her—obedient to her will alone.
***
(POV – Protagonist)
After guiding the subtle presence I had sensed earlier out of Chronas’s body, I slowly opened my eyes. The mont light returned to my vision, I found myself facing a figure of breathtaking beauty.
There was sothing unreal about her appearance, and yet it was deeply striking—a perfection that could never belong to the human realm. Like all my sisters, she, too, was a beauty whose grace transcended any mortal notion of what is considered beautiful.
For a few monts, I remained still, simply watching Chronas. It felt as though ti itself had stopped—only after several seconds did I realize I was staring at her intensely.
When I finally regained my composure, I focused on her, trying to sense the “Energy” that should reside within her. It only took a mont of concentration to feel it flowing again—strong and imposing. It seed Chronas’s authority had returned.
At the sa ti, Sara—or rather, Chronas—was studying her own hand with almost reverent attention, slowly opening and closing her fingers in a hypnotic rhythm. The light fell upon her skin, revealing a faint tremor, as if the simple act of movent demanded effort.
For a while, she remained motionless, repeating the gesture in silence—perhaps testing the limits of the body she had reclaid, or perhaps reacquainting herself once again with the form of an anomaly. A plausible theory, at least.
Then she lifted her gaze. Her eyes swept across the room with calm detachnt, pausing for a mont on my little sisters. Chronas’s gaze, as always, was cold and emotionless—but sohow, it seed more genuine now, more fitting to this new form than it had ever been in her human appearance. Finally, her eyes settled on .
Her lips moved before her voice—lodic, soft as the sound of crystal vibrating in the wind—echoed in a low yet clear tone:
“Whenever you’re ready, Sister... I’m prepared” murmured Chronas. Her voice carried the sa cool, distant timbre as always.
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