5:00 pm.
Over 10,000 dead.
"...Iris..?" Michael uttered.
Her frail figure stood atop a mountain of corpses.
She thrust with her bloodied hands and Michael's chest was impaled by a sword of thorn.
"What..?"
He gazed into her dilated scarlet pupils.
That's not her. Not Iris.
...
4:57 pm.
The battle between the Goddess of Souls and the man who conquered time ensued.
ARCHAIA weaved a blade of human essence, slashing through numerous city blocks in her frantic assault.
Weisenburg was forced to unleash another 100 percent output blast of time manipulation.
Frozen in mid-air, the destructive volley was halted before reaching the citizens below.
ARCHAIA took advantage of Weisenburg's sudden drainage of power.
She rushed forward and grasped his arm before he could retreat.
Weisenburg smirked and spoke, "Reversal."
His body was warped to a position he had taken not long prior and ARCHAIA's soul manipulation was canceled.
From behind, Weisenburg slammed ARCHAIA downward and dropkicked her into the city over, Banning.
"Thunderer: Activate."
A nuclear shell was launched towards Weisenburg but was consumed by a apparition which bended space, leading into the past.
Matt was grabbed by the collar of his shirt and tossed deep into the Earth.
"Eternal Garden: Queen of the Night."
Iris appeared behind Weisenburg and engulfed him in the prison flower.
Though her energy stores had been consumed in the battle against Alan, they were continously being linked to ARCHAIA's Akashic power.
Meaning that anyone who was taken control by the goddess had the potential to use their abilities to a limitless extent.
...
Inside the jail of nature, Weisenburg cried out. "DISTANT PURGATORIUM: GATE OF STEINER!"
A bead of sweat ran down ARCHAIA's forehead.
Everything stopped.
And began to reverse.
Five minutes.
All Weisenburg needed was five minutes to activate his Phantasmal Technique.
That technique allowed him to rewind the world to the point the ability had been learned.
Weisenburg had done it countlessly before.
But his confidence as a result of ARCHAIA's weakened state had prolonged that moment until now.
ARCHAIA hastily tore apart the floral prison and smashed Weisenburg deep into the Earth's mantle.
Weisenburg grasped her hair and sunk his teeth into her neck while launching his fist into her abdomen.
He isn't... being controlled? She panicked as she threw him off. How!?
Blood painted the walls of the giant crater from ARCHAIA's impact.
In an instant Weisenburg's skull was pierced and chunks of brain flew out into the open air before rewinding back into his head like a bloody snake.
"SO THAT'S IT!" He yelled out. "THAT'S YOUR WEAKNESS, ARCHAIA!"
...
5:00 pm.
Type-M screamed out as her skull was crushed in.
She laid motionlessly, stomped repeatedly by Gabriel.
"..."
The rift flashed and another body was thrown from it.
Type-M's blood-soaked eyes glimmered, "...Juan..?"
His lifeless corpse tumbled into the grassy field in front of her.
"Juan... Juan..! JUAN!"
Gabriel held Type-M's glassy face in his hands.
And contorted it swiftly, breaking her neck.
"...Who are you..?" Gabriel asked.
A voice came from behind, "Godfried."
...
5:02 pm.
Alan crawled through the cold streets.
"Meaningless... It was all so... meaningless..."
He shakedly heaved his body upright.
At least what was left of it.
His right arm and both legs were no longer with him.
"What was the point? Everything, all my efforts. Just to die alone. No matter the words on these pages, no matter the memories I've created. It will all be forgotten. Ah... my dear beloved..."
Alan lived a life of isolation, anyone who became close to him suffering the fate of Pure Chronostasis: Death and being pushed away.
Yet now he dreamed. He dreamed of someone who once loved him and the comfort of affection.
In death did he rejoice.
...
5:02 pm.
"W-What are you?!" Julian screamed in terror.
"My name Tyrone, n****."
The Akashic power of slavery.
By harnessing the concept of an unpaid workforce, this allowed the user to buy people with a lower net worth.
And unfortunately for Julian, he worked a minimum wage job.
While Tyrone robbed banks, investing in fried chicken restaurants with his earnings.
"Bite the curb, n****," Tyrone told Julian.
"No..! NO!" Julian cried as his body disobeyed him.
Tyrone stomped the back of Julian's head into the concrete, his teeth gorging through cartilage and flesh.
Every step ruined Julian's face more until he was an unrecognizable, bloody amalgam.
"Now bend over, n****."
Julian would die, humiliated and unable to avenge his e-girlfriend.