The goddess of chaos, once an ethereal figure of divine beauty, now teetered on the edge of her own destruction. Her graceful form twisted and contorted, growing grotesque and monstrous as her desperation mounted.
What was once a serene and composed visage became a mask of fury, her pale skin now darkened, her eyes glowing with an unholy red that pierced through the dimness of the time plane.
Her once flowing black hair, now wild and thrashing, seemed to lash out like serpents, swirling in chaotic, gravity-defying patterns.
Satoru and I stood frozen for a moment, watching in horror as the goddess’s body began to swell to an unnatural size, her monstrous figure looming over us.
The ground trembled beneath her, as if even the plane itself was reacting to her fury. The air was thick with her oppressive power, the very atmosphere buzzing with dark energy.
She had escaped the gods’ war, barely retaining her strength, and now she was struggling to defeat two mere mortals—us. That truth seemed to enrage her further.
“We can’t let her do this,” I muttered, my voice trembling. “If she destroys the time plane…”
“All human memories will vanish,” Satoru finished, his voice strained. The weight of that reality settled heavily on us both. This plane wasn’t just a battlefield—it was the keeper of time itself, of every human memory. If it was shattered, the very fabric of existence would unravel, and humanity would lose all sense of self, reduced to empty shells.
Satoru clenched his fists, his breath steadying as he scanned the grotesque figure before us. "We need to find her weakness. There has to be something we're missing."
I nodded, trying to stay calm despite the chaos unfurling around us. The goddess, now towering above us, let out a scream so ear-piercing it rattled the ground.
Her arms, which had elongated into monstrous, clawed limbs, swiped at the air, sending shockwaves of dark energy through the time plane. Memory bubbles popped and fizzled into nothingness, leaving behind blank voids where once precious memories floated.
One of the bubbles nearly hit me, and I flinched, remembering the first one I had touched earlier. That bubble had been someone's memory—someone's life, someone's identity. Now it was gone, lost forever. The gravity of what was at stake sent a shiver down my spine.
“We’re running out of time,” Satoru said, his eyes darting across the plane. “She’s going to tear this place apart. We have to act now.”
I could see the panic rising in his eyes, but also the determination. The goddess’s transformation had pushed her to the edge of control, and that gave us an opening.
"She’s consumed almost all her power," I whispered, more to myself than to Satoru. “She’s weak, she just doesn’t want us to see it.”
Satoru’s gaze snapped back to me, understanding dawning on his face. “She’s overcompensating,” he said slowly. “She’s using the last of her power to intimidate us."
The goddess let out another shriek, her massive form lumbering toward us, shaking the plane with every step. I felt the ground beneath my feet crack, and for a split second, I lost my balance.
Satoru caught me, pulling me back just in time as another wave of her dark energy crashed into the spot where I’d been standing.
“We have to hit her where she’s weakest,” Satoru said, his voice steadying. “She’s trying to overwhelm us, but if we can exploit the strain on her power…”
I nodded, trying to focus through the fear coursing through me. We still had the divine powers given to us—brute strength and the vision to see through her tricks. But it was more than just brute force that would win this battle. It was strategy.
The goddess roared again, swiping her massive claws toward us. This time, we were ready. Satoru darted to the side, moving faster than any mortal should be able to, his divine-enhanced strength allowing him to dodge the attack. I followed suit, my body moving fluidly as if the power coursing through me had taken over, guiding me to safety.
"She's slow now," I realized aloud, watching as the goddess’s monstrous figure struggled to keep up with our movements. "The bigger she gets, the less agile she becomes."
“That’s our advantage,” Satoru replied, his eyes locked on her. “We have to outmaneuver her.”
But even as we dodged her attacks, the time plane itself was starting to fracture. The goddess's sheer size and power were causing rifts in the fabric of time, memory bubbles popping and dissolving into nothingness at an alarming rate. The once bright, magical atmosphere of the plane had dimmed into an ominous, chaotic storm.
“We can’t keep dodging forever,” I said, feeling the strain in my muscles despite the divine strength coursing through me. “We need to strike her down, or this whole place is going to collapse.”
As the goddess of chaos continued her rampage, her grotesque form towering above us, I noticed Satoru’s expression shift. His eyes narrowed, focusing intently on her erratic movements. Amid the chaos and destruction, something had caught his attention.
He remained silent, his body tense, observing each swing of her claws and each wave of dark energy. I could see him analyzing, piecing something together, but I didn’t want to interrupt his train of thought.
"She's consumed the fruit of life," Satoru finally murmured, more to himself than to me.
His voice was calm despite the storm raging around us. "But something's off. If the fruit had fully integrated into her being, she wouldn't be burning through her powers like this. She should have been unstoppable by now."
His gaze remained fixed on the goddess, and I followed his line of sight, trying to see what he was seeing.
Then, his eyes widened ever so slightly. "Quinn," he said, his voice lowering, "look there." He pointed toward the center of her chest, where, amidst the chaos and shadow, something was faintly glistening.
At first, it seemed like just another shard of her dark energy, but as I squinted, I realized it was different—more defined, almost mechanical.
"It’s the timepiece," he whispered, his voice filled with revelation. "It’s lodged inside her. That’s how she’s maintaining control over the power of the fruit. She’s been using the timepiece to manipulate time itself—boosting her strength, but at a cost."
I gasped, my heart racing as the realization sank in. The timepiece. The very thing we had been searching for was now the key to both her power and her vulnerability.
Satoru’s theory made sense—her berserk state, her instability, all of it was because she hadn’t fully absorbed the fruit's power. She was relying on the timepiece to sustain herself, but it was also weakening her.
"If we can get to it," Satoru continued, his eyes burning with determination, "we can stop her. We have to take it back."