He looked around in a hurry. Something wrapped his arms around the trunk—both Lira and B-Day were clinging tightly to it, fast asleep. Their arms were interwoven with his, utterly exhausted from the fight for survival.
Relief washed over him—followed by pride.
They'd actually managed to save not only themselves, but him too.
He checked his head—thanks to the cyberkinetic side of his face, the wound wasn't too bad.
Still, it seemed he'd been unconscious for a few hours.
Before forgetting, he switched his armor to diving mode—to avoid further exposure to the water, and to keep his skin from softening even more.
The sun was setting to the west, directly in front of them—they must have slept for several more hours after the storm.
He looked at his watch.
The hour hand pointed at 1, and the second hand aligned with minute 5.
The ocean felt less like an endless sea now—more like a massive, still lake.
But suddenly, thirst hit him hard. Hunger, he could suppress.
"We never stay in one place longer than an hour... now we also need to start worrying about food," he muttered, gazing at the red water surrounding them.
Cautiously, he tried a sip. "Ugh!"
He immediately spat it out. The salty taste wasn't the only problem—it had a bloody, icy flavor that sent a shiver down his spine.
"Is this even water...?" he asked himself aloud.
Now that his mind had cleared, he realized it wasn't normal seawater at all. It was thicker—almost like a mix of water and blood.
Disgusted, he scanned the horizon.
No land in sight. No cliffs. No trace of where they'd fallen from.
The threat of the demigods still loomed.
If they began actively searching, they'd find and shred them apart in seconds.
A chill ran down his spine at the thought of the Greed twins—or Orvak—emerging from the deep.
He refocused.
"Right now, the chance of them attacking is low. They're busy fighting each other... but sooner or later, they'll notice us. We have to get out of here."
He began paddling, steering the trunk westward.
Eventually, the second hand returned to 60—indicating he was going the right way.
The sun had now fully set, and behind them, the second sun had risen.
"…Sir?" B-Day's voice, groggy and confused.
Ashfall paused and climbed slightly higher onto the trunk.
Lira stretched and nearly slipped into the water, snapping awake in an instant.
Without a word, Ashfall grabbed both of them by the shoulders.
The two didn't react—partially from exhaustion, partially from surprise.
In a universe forged like a cosmic clock, each of its 60 worlds ticks away in isolation—twelve of them major epochs frozen in time: mythic wastelands, steam-choked industrial cities, shattered digital futures. At its center lies Aethra Prime, where Timer Agents keep the balance between worlds, demigods, and chaos.
Ashfall, a broken elite agent haunted by failure, is forced back into the field with a cybernetic scar and two untested recruits. But what begins as routine surveillance spirals into a war against demigods, the gods themselves, and a long forgotten shadow older than time itself.
As worlds fall and alliances fracture, Ashfall must confront what it means to be human—or become something else entirely.
The gods are no longer in control.
Time is unraveling.
And a fifth force is awakening...
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