The figure stood before Aeon, its glowing eyes watching him intently, as if it could see right through him. There was an eerie calmness in the air now, almost as if time itself had taken a deep breath and was waiting for something to happen.
Aeon's instincts screamed at him to be cautious. The curse in front of him wasn't normal—it was far more dangerous than anything he had faced before. But still, something about the figure didn't feel like a curse at all. It felt like something ancient. Something that had been lying in wait for a long time.
Aeon's ashen grey eyes never left the figure. He could feel the pulse of cursed energy radiating from it, but it wasn't chaotic like other curses. It was calm, controlled. Like it was in complete command of the space around it.
The figure's mouth curled into a slight smile. "You're strong," it said, its voice deep and hollow. "But you don't understand the forces you're dealing with."
Aeon didn't respond. He wasn't here for a conversation. His hand twitched, and a surge of cursed energy flowed through him. Time began to slow, stretching the world out like thick syrup. The figure, however, didn't move. It just stood there, watching him.
What is this? Aeon thought. Most curses would have tried to attack by now, but this one just waited.
Without hesitation, Aeon launched forward, his movements blurred by the slowed time. His fist collided with the figure's chest, the impact sending a shockwave through the air. But to his surprise, the figure didn't budge. In fact, it felt as though his punch had hit a wall. There was no give. No reaction.
Aeon's brow furrowed. He pulled back and tried again, this time with a burst of cursed energy around his fist. Time twisted, and he moved even faster. The second punch struck, but once again, the figure didn't flinch. It remained as still as a statue, its eyes never leaving Aeon's face.
"Is that all?" the figure asked, its voice still calm, almost mocking. "You're relying on your time manipulation to fight me?"
Aeon's eyes narrowed. He knew something was wrong. There was no way this figure could be this calm against his attacks. The curse wasn't like any other he had encountered. He could feel it now—it was as if the very space around him was being controlled. Time wasn't the only thing at play here.
It's manipulating the world itself.
Without a word, the figure raised one arm, and the world seemed to bend with it. Aeon's heart skipped a beat as the air around him thickened, becoming dense and heavy. It felt like the weight of the entire world had been placed on his shoulders.
Aeon's body tensed. The curse had no need to move physically—just its presence was enough to twist reality. This was different from anything he had experienced. His time manipulation couldn't fully protect him from this kind of power.
The figure spoke again, its voice resonating in the stillness. "You think you understand time, Aeon Realmheart. But you're just a child playing with toys far beyond your reach."
Aeon grit his teeth. His fingers flexed, and he tried to slow time around him once more. But the curse's grip on reality was stronger than his own. Time didn't bend as easily this time. The curse had found a way to resist his power.
The figure stepped forward, its movements unnervingly smooth and fluid. As it did, Aeon felt the pressure in the air tighten even more. It was as if the curse was pushing the very fabric of reality itself, trying to crush him under its weight.
Aeon quickly stepped back, his mind racing. He had to think. He couldn't afford to keep attacking blindly.
There was only one thing he could do now.
With a sharp breath, Aeon focused his cursed energy. He didn't just want to manipulate time anymore—he needed to reshape it. A single thought surged through him, and he bent his power around the curse.
Time started to twist, not just slow, but fold and spiral around the figure. Aeon's power surged as he attempted to trap it in a loop, an endless cycle where time itself was out of sync. He pushed harder, forcing the world around the curse to warp and spin.
The figure froze for the first time. Aeon could feel the grip on reality loosen, and for a brief moment, he saw a crack in the curse's control. This is it, he thought. He had broken through its power.
But then, the figure's eyes flashed with a sudden intensity, and the distortion in time snapped back. The curse's energy surged, and the loop Aeon had created began to unravel. It was as if the curse had rewound time itself, undoing Aeon's progress with a simple gesture.
Aeon's chest tightened. His own manipulation of time had been overpowered. How could this be possible?
"You can bend time, but you cannot control it," the figure said, its voice low and filled with something Aeon couldn't quite place. "You are too connected to your own time, too trapped in your own power."
The figure reached out, and in that moment, time itself seemed to shatter.
Aeon staggered, feeling a violent pull as the world around him stretched, then snapped back into place. His head swam with dizziness. His grip on time had been broken—completely severed. He could no longer feel the flow of cursed energy around him. He was out of sync. The curse had done something to him. It had torn through his ability to control time itself.
For a moment, Aeon could barely stand. His body felt heavy, as though his very existence was being dragged down. The curse stepped closer, its glowing eyes locking onto him.
"You are not the only one with power over time, Aeon. Not by a long shot."
Aeon's mind raced, struggling to regain control. He had never felt this vulnerable before. The curse was right—he was too dependent on his time manipulation. Without it, he was just an ordinary sorcerer, facing an enemy far beyond his skill.
But something in him refused to give up. The sharp edge of fear was replaced by determination. He wasn't going to let this figure—this curse—win.
In a desperate attempt, Aeon forced his body to move, even if time itself was against him. With what little cursed energy he could gather, he reached deep within himself, focusing everything on one single point.
His grey eyes flashed with fierce resolve.
"Not… yet."
The fight was far from over. And Aeon was about to learn that the greatest battles were not always about power. They were about will.