This world is psychotic.
This whole ordeal,
A collision between human emotion and a god's entertainment.
Who's to blame?
A sharp pang split through my head.
I'd held time for too long.
Echo noticed. Gently, he guided my head to his shoulder.
"You can relax," he whispered.
But if I do—
Screech.
I let go.
Time moved again.
But I felt it, the fracture beneath the surface. The second it resumed, the world acted as though nothing had ever stopped. The breeze carried on. Leaves rustled. And above us, the crow flapped its wings.
Unbothered.
Unchanged.
Watching.
It hadn't been frozen at all. Or maybe... it had chosen to move the moment I released control.
Objects around us had shifted in this plane of existence. Subtle, but not hidden.
Echo's mother stood still, her fan still covering her face. Unreadable.
Grandma stood, the floor creaking beneath her, and walked toward her daughter.
"It's been a long time, Lia," she smiled. "You've grown into a fine woman."
"Mother..." Something flickered in Lia's eyes. "It really has been."
She lowered her fan, still poised, but softened. A beautiful woman despite her age. She knelt with her legs bent neatly beneath her, then bowed.
"I sometimes wondered if you hated me," Grandma said with a breath of laughter. "You were always like this—so formal—I could never tell."
She gave a nod. Lia stood again, her gaze flicking from Echo, then to me. Her eyes widened, color drained from her face.
"You..."
Her voice cracked like old parchment.
Slowly, like she was remembering something forbidden, she stepped forward.
"You're a Time..."
Don't.
I'm exhausted.
Grandma stepped between us.
"Lia," her voice was calm but firm, "I'm afraid you'll have to let them be. We haven't seen each other in decades, is this how you'll greet your mother?"
She was unreadable. Like mother, like daughter.
With a gentle hand, she gestured for us to go.
Echo helped me up. My legs wavered, but his presence grounded me. As we turned toward the door, I glanced back.
Lia's eyes were still on me—impossible to decipher.
Then I saw it.
A crow, perched silently on the edge of the veranda.
Its feathers shimmered black-blue beneath the fading light.
Its eyes, mirror like, shone with something more than instinct.
It didn't caw. It didn't blink.
It only watched.
And for some reason... I watched it