But it wasn't just the eyes that entrapped her; it was the man himself.
The darkness around Chronos accentuated the sharp lines of his face, making him terrifying yet irresistibly captivating.
For a fleeting moment, the malignancy in his gaze faltered.
His brows drew together in anguish and his grip on her wrists softened momentarily.
Pain and desperation transformed his features—a silent cry for release from the oppressive force that overtook him.
His voice, ragged and strained, broke through, a desperate whisper escaping his lips,
"Run! Tsukuyomi, I can't control myself for long! Get... Grandmama..."
It was a plea torn from the lips of a man on the precipice, teetering between the abysmal allure of surrender and the fleeting hope of salvation.
Inside, a storm raged within Chronos as he faced off against the enigmatic dark entity trying to consume him, to drown out every fragment of his true self.
