'This is it— If Hephaestus gets even an aorta of anything wrong, and I'm done for…'
Chronos considered with a shudder, making the stakes clear.
His eyes, twin celestial bodies, scanned the holographic map, downloading the schematics directly into the Dimensional Loom.
It began to hum softly—a deep, reverberating tone like a tuning fork resonating with the vibration of the universe.
'Is this really possible? He is literally reassembling me on a subatomic scale…'
Chronos's thoughts echoed.
"Now!"
Hephaestus roared.
The spindles spun furiously, golden filaments blurring into streaks of light.
Each nucleus of Chronos's being felt the tug—a magnetic pull, a rush of acceleration—melding, transforming.
With surreal precision, Hephaestus manipulated the golden threads emanating from the Loom's spindles.
