The world had turned grey, frozen in a moment of stasis, yet amidst this lifeless tableau floated Vorta, the semi-translucent evil goddess.
Her form was ethereal, a swirl of dark crimson shadow, both beautiful and terrifying.
Her eyes, devoid of compassion, sparkled with a malevolent glint, mirroring the ominous glow of her sharp, blood-red nails.
Her very presence seemed to suck the warmth out of the air, her aura radiating a sense of dread that was almost palpable.
With a grace that belied her sinister nature, Vorta drifted closer to Chronos, her movements smooth and deliberate, like a deadly dance.
Her sharp nail, glowing with an unsettling light, slid beneath his chin, lifting it ever so slightly.
Though the world was in stasis, Chronos's eyes were alive with fear and recognition, shaking slightly.
