With a tired sigh, she raised her hand. The air around her seemed to tighten, the hum of the screens growing louder as they responded to her presence. The light from the visions shimmered as her fingers moved delicately, as if tugging on invisible strings. Time buckled beneath her touch, and the battle on the screen began to rewind.

The screen in front of her shimmered, and time itself began to unravel. Slowly, the flames flickered in reverse, retreating into the smoldering buildings they had consumed. Stone by stone, the crumbled walls of the castle reformed, rising back into place as if the destruction had never happened. The bodies of the fallen lifted from the ground, returning to life in the reverse flow of time. The young girl and her mother, who had been caught under the crumbling wall, now stood safely once more, the bricks shifting back into the structure.

With each flick of her fingers, the chaos of the battlefield dissolved. The sound of the battle faded as the clash of weapons, the crumbling of stone, and the screams of terror rewound into silence. The Titan’s sword lifted from the fractured ground, and Kael’s bloodied form straightened as if the fight had never begun.

The destruction that had played out moments ago disappeared, leaving only the calm before the storm.

As the screen reset, she slowly stood, her figure obscured by the shadows that surrounded her. Without another glance, she began to walk forward, her steps soundless in the vast emptiness of the room. And then, as if she were never there, she disappeared into the darkness.

As the Titan's massive sword arced through the air, a sharp, metallic whistle filled the chamber, cutting through the tension like a blade. The walls shuddered, groaning under the pressure as if the very castle could feel the impending clash. But just as the two titans were about to collide, everything… stopped.

Kael blinked, his vision narrowing, expecting the force of the Titan’s blow—but instead, there was nothing. The roar of battle that had filled the air moments before had vanished. The clash of steel against stone, the creaking of the Titan’s armor, even the whisper of his own breath—all gone.

Outside the castle, the kingdom felt the abrupt cessation of the tremors. The cobblestone streets, which had been alive with the vibrations of the earth, suddenly fell silent. The ripples in the coffee cup outside the quiet coffee house stilled, the dark liquid settling into an eerie calm. The civilian, who had been gripping the back of his chair for balance, slowly released his hold, his eyes wide with confusion and relief.

In the marketplace, the panic that had spread like wildfire began to ebb. Merchants, who had been frantically securing their wares, paused, their hands hovering uncertainly over their goods. The wooden beams of the market stalls, which had been groaning under the pressure, now stood silent and still. Civilians who had dropped to their knees in fear began to rise, exchanging bewildered glances with one another.

A young girl, clutching her mother's hand, looked up at the sky, her eyes wide with wonder. "Mama, is it over?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

Her mother, still shaken, nodded slowly. "I think so, my dear. I think it's over."

Time had stopped.

In the grand hall of the castle, the stillness was almost deafening. Dust hung motionless in the air, each particle suspended like a tiny star caught mid-fall. Kael’s twin blades, raised in defense, seemed to hang frozen in his grip, the faint glint of their sharp edges caught in an eternal shimmer. Even the weight of the ground beneath his feet felt… lighter, as though the very earth had forgotten its pull.

He glanced at the Titan. The giant’s sword hung mid-swing, its monstrous edge only inches from the ground, frozen in place. The air around it rippled, bending as though reality itself had been warped, caught in an unnatural pause. Kael’s eyes flicked to the Aurora Paladin—her shield, once glowing with ethereal light, had dimmed, the pulsing energy around her stilled, caught in the same eerie suspension.

Nothing moved. Nothing breathed.

The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Except for the footsteps.

Soft, deliberate, echoing impossibly through the stillness. Kael's chest tightened, each breath shallow and quick. His eyes darted around the frozen chamber, seeking the source of the footsteps that seemed to echo from every corner at once. The sound was faint, almost a whisper, yet it reverberated through the stone walls, through his bones, carrying a presence far heavier than the silence it broke.

Then, a voice, as soft as a whisper, yet carrying the weight of eons, filled the chamber.

"You've crossed a line," the voice murmured, each word a caress of wind that somehow shook the very foundations of the castle. "I've witnessed the chaos your recklessness can sow. A kingdom nearly erased by the clash of your insignificant blades." The air grew heavy, charged with unseen power. "Impressive," she mused, her words now sharp as hail, "and utterly unforgivable."

Kael’s heartbeat quickened, the familiar voice echoing in the stillness, carrying with it a weight that dwarfed the towering Titan before him. That voice—he could never forget it. Though he couldn’t see her, her presence was palpable, filling the chamber with an otherworldly tension. His grip tightened on his twin blades, knuckles turning white, as the shame coiled in his chest like a serpent.

The reprimand, though gentle, pierced deeper than any strike the Titan could deliver. “I expected more from you.”

Kael’s breath hitched, his heart pounding painfully in his chest. He had led armies through rivers of blood, and stood unshaken at the edge of annihilation. Yet here, with just a few whispered words, his strength felt like a brittle shell, cracking under the weight of her unseen gaze.

Exposed. Vulnerable. His hands, once steady as stone, trembled at the enormity of her judgment, and a cold dread curled in his gut. How had he allowed himself to fall so far, to be reduced to this? A king in name, but in the eyes of this force, he was nothing more than a child playing with swords.

A flicker of doubt slithered into his mind. He had been chosen for this, placed on the throne not just by his strength but by powers far greater than his own. And now, that power was watching him. No, not just watching—evaluating him.

For a moment, Kael’s resolve wavered. In the face of the Titan, he had been prepared for a physical battle, but this… this was something far more terrifying. The Titan was a brute, a force of nature that could be felled with enough strategy and will. But the presence behind that voice? That was something else entirely. A force beyond him, beyond the world’s understanding.

How could I have allowed myself to falter?

It wasn’t just the shame of nearly losing control. It was the realization that, under her gaze, nothing was hidden. His anger, his frustration, his fear—all of it was laid bare. The Titan may have been the enemy standing before him, but it was the presence of that unseen force that truly paralyzed him.

He clenched his jaw, forcing his breath to steady. I cannot fall apart. Yet, even as he willed himself to remain strong, he felt the overwhelming weight of expectations pressing down on him—expectations that stretched beyond the mortal world. Her voice wasn’t loud, but it echoed with an authority that made his past victories seem insignificant, his title as King a mere formality in the grand scheme of things.

Kael had always prided himself on being the calm within the storm. The king who never wavered. But now, under that unseen gaze, he realized just how fragile that calm truly was.

Her gaze flickered from the Titan to Kael, her lips curling into a smirk that held neither malice nor kindness—just a vast, unknowable amusement.

The Aurora Paladin, who had stood so strong, suddenly trembled, her legs shaking beneath the weight of the presence before her. The magic shield she had summoned faltered for a moment, its ethereal glow dimming, before stabilizing again. Her strength was leaving her, but she couldn’t fall—her body, like everyone else’s, remained suspended, trapped in the frozen moment.

"Fate," she murmured, "is as delicate as morning mist, as unpredictable as a summer storm." The air around the Aurora Paladin seemed to thin, making each breath a struggle. "One misstep," the Stormbringer continued, her words echoing with the weight of countless lost futures, "and all you cherish scatters like leaves in a gale. You sense it, don't you?" Her voice dropped to a whisper that somehow filled the entire chamber. "The fragility of your fleeting existence."

Her breaths came in shallow gasps, her body paralyzed, not by fear, but by the sheer weight of the approaching power. She could not respond—her voice, like her strength, had been taken by the stillness. Her eyes, wide and filled with a mixture of awe and terror, flicked helplessly between Kael and the figure before her.