Seconds go.
A minute passes by.
The hour waits.
The day is ruined.
The months were dark.
The years were lonely.
The decades ran.
The century had been forgotten.
And the millennium was watching.
All of that...
And the sky is dead.
The realm was splintered, fractured beyond recognition. The sky above resembled a stained-glass mosaic, each jagged shard glowing in mismatched colors—violet thunder streaks fractured across black voids, and crimson clouds swirled violently in broken loops. Islands of crumbling architecture floated mid-air, fragments of old civilizations, spinning aimlessly as gravity misbehaved. The air itself hummed with entropy, heavy and electric, as though reality were teetering on the edge of collapse.
Juno Luminara stood in the heart of this disarray, her boots grinding against cracked obsidian tiles that once belonged to a grand cathedral. Now it was a ruin adrift in the emptiness. A low gust swept through, scattering ash across her face, but she didn't flinch. Her gray hood clung to her damp brown hair, shadowing her narrowed eyes, which reflected the storm of ruin that surrounded her. Her black coat—adorned with brass gears sewn into the seams—whispered as she moved, the hem frayed from too many close calls.
The Chronosword rested in her right hand, the weapon humming faintly like a clock winding in reverse. Its blade shimmered with a paradoxical sheen: black metal that seemed to drink in the surrounding light, yet edged with pale gold cracks that pulsed like veins. Its design defied common sense—curved lines intersected with sharp angles, and its length could shift at will, depending on how time bent around it. This weapon was as much a tool of precision as it was a curse, the embodiment of fragmented moments made tangible. Juno gave it a slight twirl, testing the weight in her palm.
A pair of gloves—stiffened from dried blood—wrapped tightly around her fingers, now gripping the hilt of the Chronosword.
The weapon thrummed like a heartbeat, resonating with every pulse of Juno's existence. It was no ordinary blade. The Chronosword's surface flickered, switching between a liquid gleam of obsidian and molten gold veins that ran in jagged patterns. Its edge bent light, distorting reality along its curve, as if time itself hesitated around it. It was her lifeline, her curse, and her only friend.
She didn't have time to think about the irony.
A figure leaped from the crumbling tower above her, landing in a crouch directly in her path. It stood up slowly, its form shifting like a mirage, wearing a face she knew too well.
Her own.
Now across from her stood... herself. Or rather, the void's cruel mimicry of her.
This version was a darkened reflection: skin a pale glow of sickly white, eyes empty sockets from which dim voidlight flickered, flickering and dying like stars on the brink of collapse. Its form shimmered with inconsistency, a body forever threatening to dissolve into smoke, only to reassemble in grotesque mockery. It wore a twisted version of her coat—tattered beyond recognition and stained with oily black veins.
The Reflection, her void-twin, was both beautiful and grotesque—an eerie mockery of herself. Its hollow eye sockets glimmered with dim white flames, and its smile was twisted with contempt. A torn, oily-black version of her coat clung to its skin like a parasite. Shadows clung to its frame, swirling like ink, breaking apart and reforming with every movement. When it stepped forward, it left a trail of void energy that shimmered before evaporating into nothingness.
"You look tired," the Reflection whispered, its grin widening. "Running again, huh? How many times now? Five? Ten? You always think you'll win if you just keep trying."
Juno tightened her grip on the Chronosword. Her lips curled into a humorless smile. "Yeah. You know what they say—persistence is a virtue."
The Reflection laughed, a cold, raspy sound. "No. Persistence is pathetic."
Before Juno could respond, the Reflection lunged.
[System initializing... skill: Phase Step.
Accelerates the user's movement by 1 second, temporarily phasing them out of sync with time.]
Juno felt her body shift, her form becoming translucent as she dashed forward. The world around her lagged by just a beat as she sidestepped the Reflection's sweeping strike, its void-spear whistling through the air where she'd stood a moment earlier. Her hand shot out, gripping the Chronosword's hilt with both hands, and she swung upward.
The blade sang—a note of breaking clocks and unraveling timelines.
[System: Chronoslash activated.
Chronoslash: A strike that cuts through the fabric of time. Deals cumulative damage across multiple timelines.]
The Reflection twisted just in time, the edge of the Chronosword grazing its shoulder. For a split second, the wound flickered—both healed and unhealed at once—before sealing itself. The Reflection grinned, its empty eyes brimming with malice. "Close. But not close enough."
Juno didn't wait for a response. She spun, dragging the Chronosword in a low arc, aiming for its legs. The Reflection jumped high, somersaulting mid-air, and conjured a spear of void energy with a flick of its wrist.
"Void Lance!" it shouted, hurling the spear with unrelenting force.
Juno rolled to the side, but the weapon grazed her shoulder, searing her coat and burning through the fabric. She hissed through gritted teeth, her heart pounding as a jolt of pain shot down her arm. The wound stung, black tendrils spreading along her skin like ink.
[System warning: Minor corruption detected.]
Juno didn't have the luxury of dwelling on it. She slammed the Chronosword into the ground.
"Time Fracture!" she shouted.
[System activating: Time Fracture
Temporarily shatters the flow of time, creating a localized disruption that slows enemies for 5 seconds.]
The air around the Reflection cracked like shattered glass, and its movements became sluggish, every motion dragging as if caught in thick tar.
Juno surged forward, Chronosword in hand. The blade glowed, vibrating with anticipation, its veins of gold throbbing in rhythm with her heartbeat. She swung the sword with precision—once, twice, three times—each strike leaving a shimmering afterimage in its wake.
But the Reflection's grin never wavered.
"You can't kill me," it whispered as it parried the final strike. "You're only delaying the inevitable."
And then it struck. Faster than she could react, the Reflection's palm slammed into her chest, knocking the air from her lungs. Juno staggered back, clutching her ribs as pain radiated through her body. Her vision blurred, static creeping at the edges.
[System warning: Critical condition detected. Health at 8%.]
The Reflection stepped closer, its smile widening. "You always think you'll get another chance, don't you? But even timekeepers run out of time."
It drove its void-spear into her chest, and everything stopped.
[Time Checkpoint Activated]
Time snapped backward like a rubber band, pulling her consciousness with it. Juno gasped as the spear vanished from her chest, and she was yanked back into the moment before the Reflection's attack.
I knew it. Even my style of fighting is copied.
Her knees buckled, but she caught herself, forcing a sharp inhale through her teeth. Her heart slammed against her ribcage, the memory of pain still fresh in her mind. Okay. That didn't work.
She rolled her shoulders, exhaling slowly. "Alright," she muttered to herself. "Let's try something new."
This time, she didn't wait for the Reflection to strike first. With a flick of her wrist, she willed the Chronosword to shift—a strange ripple passing through the blade as it shortened into a dagger.
[System activated: Weapon Morph
Adjusts the length and weight of the Chronosword according to user intent.]
She threw the dagger with pinpoint accuracy. The Reflection deflected it with ease, just as Juno expected. But she was already moving—her body phasing in and out of reality with every step.
[System: Phase Chain initiated.
Executes consecutive teleportation steps, chaining movement across short distances.]
In an instant, she reappeared behind the Reflection, the full length of the Chronosword restored in her grip. "Paradox Rend!" she shouted, her voice cutting through the storm around them.
[Skill: Paradox Rend
Strikes and unravels the target's connection to alternate timelines.]
The Chronosword sliced clean through the Reflection's body. The void-twin let out a shriek as its form wavered, flickering like a corrupted recording. Pieces of it dissolved into black tendrils, drifting away into the broken air.
But instead of fading entirely, the Reflection smiled—its hollow gaze burning into Juno's.
"This isn't over," it whispered. "I'll see you again, Timekeeper. One day soon, when your borrowed time finally runs out."
And with that, it vanished, leaving only a trail of darkness in its wake.
Juno exhaled, her hands trembling slightly as she lowered the Chronosword. The world around her seemed quieter now, the chaos receding for a brief moment. But she knew better than to trust it.
[System update: Chronosword attuned. Skill acquired: Paradox Rend.]
Her legs felt heavy, exhaustion gnawing at her bones, but she forced herself to stand tall. There would be no rest. Not yet.
Panting, Juno lowered the Chronosword, the gold veins along its edge pulsing faintly. Her vision swam, exhaustion catching up with her. But she couldn't rest yet.
The ground beneath her cracked. The ruined cathedral was crumbling faster now—reality peeling away in layers.
"Not again," Juno muttered, gripping her sword tighter.
The horizon warped, folding inward as another void rift began to tear through the sky. A monstrous howl echoed from within the breach, and Juno's heart sank.
[Warning: Temporal instability detected. System override in progress...]
And just as she prepared to leap into the next battle, the floor shattered beneath her feet, plunging her into darkness.
[WARNING: The Void gazes upon you.]