The dungeon rested in an eternal calm, a sanctuary where shadows and life intertwined in a silent dance. Faint light seeped through the cracks of the vaulted ceiling, spilling golden rays that brushed the vines clinging to the black stone walls, their glossy green leaves catching the glow like tiny emeralds. The Fire Blossoms, with their crimson petals burning quietly from the mossy floor, cast a warm radiance that danced in the air, tinting the main chamber with a subtle red that pulsed in rhythm with the scarlet orb suspended at its center. That orb, a pulsing core of pure power, emitted a low, steady hum, an echo that reverberated in the bones like the heartbeat of a forgotten world. Yet a new whisper wove through its notes: a faint tick-tock, a temporal echo that made the black roses scattered in the crevices tremble, their dark petals unfurling with a pale green shimmer, as if awakening from a millennia-long slumber.
Aurora stood before the altar, her imposing figure draped in Sebastian's gardener tunic, which hung loose but hinted at the sculpted curves of her transformed body. Her majestic wings spread in an ethereal arc, radiating a magical glow that bathed the walls in soft reflections. Her amber eyes, with golden runes spinning like constellations in a night sky, gazed at the floating hologram with a regal serenity that filled the space with an overwhelming presence. Her green hair, long to her waist and threaded with golden strands, swayed with each movement, and her pearly skin gleamed with a luster that seemed to hold the light of the stars.
Kaili lounged to the side, leaning against a gnarled root with a careless grace that exuded unshakable confidence. Her light purple skin shimmered with an inner glow, golden, silver, and red runes pulsing like veins of power across her body. Her six membranous wings, folded behind her, glinted in shifting hues—deep black, vibrant purple, vivid scarlet—while she tapped a claw against the wood in a relaxed rhythm. Her sharp horns, adorned with gems that caught the light in blinding flashes, rose proudly, and her dark eyes, flecked with cosmic sparks, watched the scene with a calm only the eternal could possess.
Sebastian worked near the altar, pruning a rebellious vine with fine-tipped shears, his fingers moving with the precision of a seasoned herbalist as he hummed a quiet tune. His dark brown hair fell in messy strands over his warm eyes, and his tanned skin glistened with a faint sweat that caught the glow of the Fire Blossoms. Beside him, Terron stacked tools clumsily, its chubby hands dropping a shovel that thudded against the moss, drawing a smile from Sebastian. "Careful, little guy, we don't want a mess," he said softly, giving the golem a friendly pat.
Aurora raised a hand to the hologram, her voice ringing with a crystalline clarity that filled the chamber like the echo of shattering glass. "The time claims its voice," she declared, her golden runes flaring with renewed intensity as she touched the "Throne" tab. A drop of black blood welled from her fingertip, gleaming and thick like liquid obsidian, rising into the air as if guided by time itself. The drop traced a perfect circle, a temporal ring that spun slowly, its edges glowing with a deep red that seemed to bleed light.
Sebastian glanced up, a spark of curiosity lighting his face. "Are we growing the team?" he asked, his tone light as he set the shears on the root. Kaili let out a snort, her voice sharp as a blade. "Let's hope it's useful and not just decorative like you, gardener," she shot back, tilting her head with a gesture dripping with sarcasm.
The circle of blood expanded, and above the altar emerged a colossal clock, an imposing structure woven of shadows and golden gears that turned with a resonant tick-tock, a sound that echoed through the chamber like the amplified beat of an eternal heart. Its hands, long and curved like scythes, spun backward with hypnotic precision, slicing the air with a hum that vibrated in the lungs. From the void, deep bells tolled with a low, solemn tone, an echo that seemed to rise from the depths of time, as threads of black blood and scarlet light wove together in the air, forming a portal that glowed like shattered stained glass. The portal was a mystic window, a tapestry of temporal ribbons and blood dancing in intricate patterns, evoking glimpses of forgotten eras and unwritten futures.
Kaili raised a hand with an elegant motion, her runes flaring with a scarlet glow, and a veil of shadows unfurled around the dungeon, reinforcing its unyielding calm. The vines ceased trembling, the Fire Blossoms shone steadily, and the ritual's power remained contained, a visually stunning yet serene spectacle within her domain.
From the portal stepped Aevia, tall and slender, her pale skin shimmering with an iridescent sheen, crisscrossed by dark veins that pulsed with reddish-black blood, moving like slow clock hands beneath her flesh. Her hair, a river of jet black, flowed like liquid shadows, shifting from blood red to ethereal violet with each step. Her eyes, miniature hourglasses, gleamed with red sand flowing in chaotic patterns—upward, stilled, hastened—framed by a radiance of scarlet and black galaxies with a golden hand ticking silently. Her dress, woven of hardened shadows and clotted blood, rippled like a living canvas, displaying fleeting patterns: spinning gears, blooming black roses, visions of a time stained red. Behind her, a mantle of floating hourglasses, golden gears, and bloodied shadows spread like spectral wings, pulsing with a rhythm that synced with the colossal clock's tick-tock. Around her neck hung an hourglass filled with black blood, each drop falling with an echo that resounded like a distant heartbeat.
The moment Aevia crossed the portal, the world beyond shuddered under her presence. A colossal clock of black blood and scarlet clouds formed in the sky, its hands spinning backward with a low tick-tock that thundered in the hearts of all beings—humans, beasts, gods. Blood from the clock dripped upward, defying gravity, and every shadow in the world stretched toward the horizon like clock hands, casting a red glow that pulsed like living blood. Simultaneously, a rain of black droplets fell from the heavens, halting midair to form patterns of clocks and gears that spun slowly, suspended in an eerie stillness. Every living creature felt their heart pause—not in death, but in a supernatural stillness—the blood in their veins slowing as a tick-tock echoed in their ears, as if their bodies had become clocks caught in her grasp.
Aevia raised her head, and her voice broke forth, ancient and mighty, an echo that seemed to rise from the edges of time and fade into the void, present yet absent, existing yet nonexistent all at once. "Hear me, O mortals who walk beneath the sun and eternals who defy the stars," she began, her low, melodic tone reverberating like bells tolling from a forgotten abyss, her words ringing across the world as fear gripped every heart. "The whisper of time that flows in blood, the echo of moments born in darkness. I am the fusion of the first heartbeat and the initial drop that stained the void, the weaver of eras that unravel in silence, the keeper of threads fate let fall." The black rain spun faster, gears glowing with scarlet light, and the red-tinged shadows quivered as if under judgment. "My eyes have beheld the spark of creation and the ash of its end, my blood has set the rhythm of worlds that rose and crumbled. My judgment weighs upon the living and the dead, my existence is the mirror of what was, is, and shall be, a shattered glass where time bleeds forever." The celestial clock froze, its blood spiraling upward in a vortex that lit the sky, and the hearts of the world raced in terror. "I am Aevia, the second Echo of the Queen, second warning: Throne of the Primordial Chronoblood," she concluded, her voice reaching a crescendo that shook the souls of all beings, a timeless judge who had spoken.
The skyward clock dissolved in a scarlet flash, the black droplets faded into the air, and the shadows returned to normal, leaving only a lingering tick-tock that echoed like a distant omen. Within the dungeon, serenity held firm, Aevia's power contained by Kaili's shadowy veil, a tranquil counterpoint to the world outside still reeling from her proclamation.
Aurora tilted her head with majestic calm, her golden runes glinting with silent approval. "Aevia, my voice in time," she replied, her clear, resonant tone filling the chamber with an authority that anchored the unleashed power.
Aevia knelt before her with serene reverence, her dress flowing like a river of shadows and blood. "Mother of ages, my existence beats for you," she said, her voice laced with a loyalty woven into the fabric of time itself. She rose with a grace that seemed to still the air, turning to Kaili with a quiet nod. "Sister of chaos, the centuries have bound us," she stated, her hourglass eyes shimmering with deep recognition.
Kaili returned the gesture with an arrogant nod, her wings unfurling once with a hum that sliced the silence. "Time and I have never been at odds," she shot back, her deep voice resonating with a confidence that brooked no doubt.
Aevia turned to Sebastian, who held his shears in one hand, the black petal tucked into his apron. Her hourglass eyes studied him with wise tenderness, and she extended a hand, offering a black rose that sprouted from her palm with a living green glow. "Little gardener, do you know how long I've waited?" she said, her voice soft but heavy with a weight that made Sebastian blink, bewildered.
He furrowed his brow, his mind grasping for a memory that wasn't there. "Have I seen you before?" he murmured, his tone uncertain as he stared at her. She was commanding, unforgettable, yet nothing in his recollection matched her. He took the black rose with cautious fingers, turning it under the light as fascination bloomed in his eyes. "This is a beautiful rose," he said, his voice relaxed yet awed, watching the dark petals shimmer with a green he'd never encountered in any flower. "Where do these grow?"
Kaili let out a sharp scoff, her tone cutting as ever. "How touching, gardener," she said, leaning forward with a mocking grin. "You've got yourself a personal florist now."
Aevia shifted then, her form softening in an instant. Her appearance turned youthful, her hourglass eyes sparkling with a playful glint, her black hair falling in messy but charming strands, and her smile growing mischievous. She bounded toward Sebastian, her fingers brushing his face with a childlike tenderness that caught him off guard. "You're so soft!" she exclaimed, her voice high and brimming with wonder, her hands exploring his cheek and then his hair with boundless curiosity. "Like a warm flower!"
Sebastian laughed, dropping the shears to the moss as he wrapped her in a warm embrace, his confusion melting into a familiarity only he could offer. "Welcome to the family," he said, his tone gentle and heartfelt, holding her with a warmth that seemed to tether the chaos of time to his simple humanity.
Aurora watched with a blend of firmness and affection, her majestic wings flaring once as she settled onto the mossy grass beside the altar. "Aevia," she called, her voice clear and resonant, "find your place." Aevia stabilized in her mature form, a majestic serenity filling the chamber with a silent weight. She bowed to Aurora once more, her dress rippling like a river of blood and shadows. "My will is yours, Mother," she said, then turned to Sebastian with a tranquil smile. "And my guard is for you, little gardener."
Kaili leaned back against the root, her wings folding with a faint hum. "Another burden for you, gardener," she remarked, her tone sharp but tinged with camaraderie. "Don't let her spoil you too much."
The colossal clock faded with a final toll, its golden gears dissolving into the air like shimmering dust, but a persistent tick-tock lingered in the chamber, resonating in the black roses that glowed with a deeper green. Aurora lifted her gaze to the orb, her golden runes casting an ethereal light across her face. "Time has found its echo," she said, her clear voice carrying a certainty that sliced through the silence.
Sebastian held the black rose, the tick-tock vibrating in his hands as he glanced at Aevia, then at Aurora and Kaili. "The garden's getting more interesting," he said, his soft laugh easing the tension as he sat beside Aurora, his arm wrapping around her with a warmth that anchored the immense power around him.
The chamber remained serene, the orb's hum and the roses' tick-tock echoing like a distant heartbeat promising change. Aevia, in her mature form, filled the space with a majestic presence, an echo of time and blood, flanked by Kaili and Aurora with a confidence that defied the cosmos.