Chapter 215: The Alarm of a Fallen Time god!
A powerful alarm resonated through the galaxies, reverberating across countless universes. It wasn't a sound in the traditional sense—it was a ripple in the very fabric of existence, a warning that transcended time and space. The death of a Time God was not a small event; it was a cosmic calamity, felt by every sentient being, though most could not comprehend its origin.
To those attuned to the forces of time, however, it was unmistakable. The fall of Zorath, one of the three Time Gods, sent shockwaves through the universe.
Earth
On Earth, amidst a magnificent man made temple- deep in a forgotten jungle, Erodius—the forbidden god—paused mid-conversation with Rhemon, his ever-loyal servant. His eyes, sharp and calculating, momentarily lost their focus as the weight of the alarm hit him.
"Zorath..." he muttered, the name rolling off his tongue like venom. He folded his arms, confusion evident on his usually impassive face.
Rhemon tilted his head, hesitant to interrupt. "My lord?"
Erodius's gaze darkened, and his voice was low and deliberate. "Zorath is dead. But..." He clenched his fist, a rare display of frustration. "There's no replacement. No successor. That shouldn't be possible."
His mind raced. According to his conjecture, the death of a Time God was always meant to be accompanied by the rise of another. The balance demanded it. Yet, here he stood, sensing nothing but the void where Zorath's presence once resided.
"Could the seed have been destroyed?" Rhemon ventured, though he immediately regretted his words as Erodius's glare silenced him.
"No," Erodius said coldly, his voice tinged with both anger and intrigue. "Something—or someone—is disrupting the natural order. And I will find out who."
Planet Tor
On Planet Tor, a jewel of cosmic splendor belonging to the second Time God, chaos erupted. A middle-aged man with a commanding presence stood atop a crystalline tower. His forehead bore the faint but unmistakable mark of a ticking clock, its rhythm now erratic, a physical manifestation of the alarm.
The man's voice, both furious and grief-stricken, thundered across the planet like a tidal wave.
"ZORATH IS DEAD?!"
His words carried a tangible force, disintegrating everything in their path. Towering structures turned to dust, rivers dried up in an instant, and lifeforms across the planet aged and withered in mere seconds. Time itself seemed to rebel against his rage.
The Time God's face was stricken with guilt, his composure cracking as the implications of Zorath's death sank in. He clenched his jaw, his hands trembling.
""He warned me," the second Time God muttered under his breath, his voice trembling with disbelief. "Zorath told me about Erodius's schemes, and I didn't listen. I thought he was paranoid... that his mind was fraying with age." His words faded into a hollow silence, guilt etched into every line of his face.
He slumped against the crystalline railing of his tower, his gaze distant, as if searching the stars for answers. The weight of his negligence was unbearable. Zorath had warned him, pleaded with him to unite against Erodius, but he had dismissed it as the ramblings of an aging god.
"Fool," he whispered, his voice laced with self-loathing. "I let him face it alone."
His thoughts swirled chaotically, a storm of regret and uncertainty. What was the next step? Erodius's plans had clearly been set into motion, and now, without Zorath, the balance was teetering on the edge of collapse. He rubbed his temples, the beginnings of a splitting headache forming as the enormity of the situation overwhelmed him.
"Damn it, Zorath," he growled, slamming his fist into the tower's railing. The impact sent shockwaves rippling through the planet, causing time to stutter momentarily—trees wilting, regrowing, and wilting again in an endless loop. "You always carried the burden. And now I must figure out how to stop what's coming."
---
A Floating Space in the Universe
Far away, in a realm untouched by planetary constraints, the third Time God floated freely—a being of carefree disposition, detached from the heavy responsibilities his title demanded. He drifted in a celestial void, a translucent space adorned with shimmering constellations and cascading streams of light.
It was in this serene isolation that the alarm struck him. The moment Zorath's death registered, he froze, his perpetual calm shattered.
"Zorath is dead?" The words escaped his lips, barely audible, yet the truth of them cut deeper than he thought possible.
His hand instinctively went to the faint clock-like sigil on his chest, the mark shared by all Time Gods. It burned slightly, a painful reminder of the cosmic shift that had just occurred.
Memories of his hostility toward Zorath flooded his mind, each one stinging like a nail driven into his flesh. He had mocked Zorath's warnings, dismissed him as overly cautious and rigid. The two had clashed countless times, their opposing ideologies driving an ever-deepening wedge between them.
And now, Zorath was gone.
"Was he right?" The thought clawed at his mind, relentless and unforgiving. He had always seen Zorath as the pessimist, the one too consumed by the dangers of the universe to truly live. But now, it seemed Zorath's caution had been warranted.
The third Time God ran a hand through his silver-streaked hair, his usual nonchalance replaced by a rare sense of unease. He floated aimlessly, staring into the expanse of stars, his mind racing.
"If Erodius is behind this..." His voice trailed off, the implications too grim to voice.
For the first time in millennia, the third Time God felt the weight of responsibility pressing down on him. The carefree life he had embraced seemed like a distant memory, and the reality of Zorath's warnings loomed larger than ever.
"I have to act," he murmured, his gaze hardening. "Before it's too late."
The universe had lost a guardian, and the remaining Time Gods knew their time of reckoning was fast approaching.
The three Time Gods were like the three legs of a stool—delicate yet balanced. But now, with one leg detached, the stool teetered dangerously, threatening collapse. The two remaining Time Gods, Kronis and Serapheon, were burdened with the weight of holding the multiverse together. Their cosmic exertion was relentless, a constant struggle to keep the intricate web of realities intact. Yet they knew, deep down, their strength was finite. A being more powerful than a Time God would be their only salvation if they faltered.
Meanwhile, chaos spread like wildfire across the planes of existence. Realities collided, alternate timelines bled into one another, and the very fabric of existence began to fray.
---
Amid the turmoil, Tessa blinked and found herself once again beside Gastro. His furrowed brow and confused expression greeted her as she steadied herself, hiding the tumult within her.
To Gastro, mere seconds had passed since they were last together. But for Tessa, hours had unfolded in Zorath's domain, each second heavy with revelations and dread. Zorath's manipulation of time had rendered her absence unnoticeable, yet she felt its weight on her shoulders.
"Where did you go just now? You disappeared and then appeared like a ghost!" Gastro exclaimed, his voice tinged with certainty and suspicion.
Tessa forced a laugh, masking her unease. "You must have been really scared," she said, brushing off his words. "Now you're imagining things that aren't there. I've been here the whole time."
Her tone was light, but her mind raced. The meeting with Zorath had opened her eyes to the precarious state of the multiverse and the burden she now carried. She had to conceal the truth, starting with Gastro.
Gastro narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing her every word. "Don't lie to me, Tessa. I know what I saw—what I felt. One second you were here, the next you were gone. Care to explain that?"
She shrugged, feigning indifference. "Maybe you need some rest. This chaos is messing with everyone's heads."
Gastro seemed unconvinced but didn't press further, instead sighing and muttering under his breath. Tessa took a deep breath, willing herself to focus. Hiding the truth from Gastro would not be easy, but it was necessary. If Gastro wasn't convinced that he was mistaken, then it would be even harder to convince others.
As the faint echoes of Zorath's last moments reverberated in her mind, she clenched her fists. The weight of her secret was growing heavier, and the clock was ticking. Tessa knew she would have to choose her next steps carefully—or risk the multiverse collapsing under the strain of its unraveling threads.