At the heart of the Time Temple, time seemed to solidify into a tangible presence, slowly enveloping the space to form a silvery cocoon. Its surface shimmered with an ethereal glow. Illusory Glass sat cross-legged at the center, her expression serene and tranquil, as if seamlessly fused with the surrounding space-time.

Though the temple appeared utterly still, time within the cocoon shifted silently—flowing at hundreds, then thousands of times normal speed. Each fleeting moment spanned vast epochs, accelerating without pause.

At the temple’s core stood a towering clock face, majestic and motionless. At its center, a pair of deep, luminous eyes gazed intently at the silvery cocoon. Through that gaze, infinite possibilities hidden within seemed almost visible.

Had someone observed those eyes closely, they might have glimpsed a strange vision within: a colossal hand descending slowly from the heavens, palm brimming with boundless power, as if capable of obliterating everything in sight.

The vision was not static. It flickered rapidly like a video sped up hundreds of times. Each flash revealed a new scene—mostly barren ruins, the rest raging battlefields.

After an indeterminate span, a crisp *crack* echoed from the cocoon’s surface. In the temple’s profound silence, the sound was jarringly sharp. The time-formed cocoon split open, cracks multiplying swiftly.

A pair of fair arms emerged, tearing the cocoon apart. A tall, completely unclothed girl stood at the temple’s center. She furrowed her brow slightly—then, in an instant, Magic Armor clad her form.

She wore a silvery gown woven with intricate clock motifs, as if an elf stepped forth from time’s depths. Delicate silver gears shimmered faintly along the hem, whispering time’s passage. A band of tiny clock faces circled her waist, their hands ticking gently.

Her hair cascaded like a waterfall over her shoulders, complementing the gown. Most striking were her eyes—clear, bright, the color of illusory glass.

Innocence and charm sparkled within them, like an uncut gem gleaming softly. Yet every gesture carried mature grace.

She approached Moon Owl, cupped her hands. A book engraved with exquisite clockwork patterns slowly opened. Its silver cover bore finely carved gears and hands, as if time itself stirred with each page turn.

With every gentle flip, the engraved clocks seemed to rotate, emitting a soft, melodious chime—like time’s quiet whisper.

Her gaze lingered on each word, as if in silent dialogue with ancient wisdom. Fingers glided across the pages like playing a silent cantata. Serenity and elegance filled the hushed void.

"Finite space shapes time’s flow. Time’s shift accelerates space’s change."

Moon Owl clearly recognized her. Despite the transformation, this girl was none other than Illusory Glass.

She reached into the void, grasping something unseen. A soft yet brilliant halo rose from her palm and settled gently upon Moon Owl.

Moon Owl felt plunged into a time tunnel. Memories etched deep by years flashed before her—she saw the end of spatial layering, glimpsed a future where the Abyss collided with the present…

As the halo spread, her own future unfolded: untrodden paths, possible choices, mysteries ahead—all like a scroll slowly unrolling.

Bathed in the glow, surrounding space quickened. Still air stirred with new vitality. Even Mana swirled visibly.

"I am here to aid you in achieving the Ultimate."

The visions faded. Moon Owl let out a wry smile. New words carved themselves onto the Magic Stone at her waist—a gift from the future.

"Spatial layering, Magic Armor reconfiguration. Upon the Throne of Space, I survey past and future. Clad in the Robe of Ascension, boundless space-time lies beneath my gaze… At this moment, I lift the seal!"

Space shattered like broken glass. Layered dimensions collapsed into one. The concealing realm dissolved. Moon Owl, crowned in jet-black, emerged from the fractured void. Her eyes gleamed with profound light, piercing illusion and truth alike.

Beside her stood the silver-haired girl, nearly her height, radiant as a brilliant star. Cradling the book, her gaze fixed on Night Frost locked mid-air in battle with the Calamity Dragon.

Moon Owl stepped forward, gently patted the shoulder of the Guardian of the Seventh District across the battlefield. Without a ripple, she stood behind her.

The Guardian—who had been fighting Crimson—trembled like a startled bird. She turned her head shakily, meeting Moon Owl’s deep, piercing eyes.

"Ultimate… Again, the Ultimate."

She swallowed hard. Nameless fear surged. Moon Owl’s aura felt like a storm swallowed by silence, forcing her two steps back. Gripping her scissors tight, she slashed forward with desperate courage. Charged with immense Mana, they seemed capable of tearing reality itself.

Moon Owl merely stepped back. The world-shattering scissors sliced empty air. A deafening crash followed—nearby structures vanished in dust and flying debris.

"Leave it to me."

Crimson watched Moon Owl, feeling that pure, immense power. Her worry melted away. Trust loosened her tensed nerves, as if a thousand-pound weight lifted. In that breath, her soul felt freed. She exhaled deeply—a sigh carrying years of fatigue, anxiety, unease. It dissolved into the air.

Exhaustion rushed in. Strength drained from her limbs. Legs buckled. Like a kite with severed string, she began to sink.

Moon Owl opened her palm, catching Crimson. Then slowly closed her hands. Invisible force drew the surrounding space, gently wrapping around the Guardian of the Seventh District.

"Space? Then I counter with space."

She mimicked Moon Owl’s Magic Armor, tore open space before her, and dove in—only to slam against an invisible barrier.

"This… is space?"

The Guardian pressed her palm to the barrier. To her senses, it was space—just far tougher than what she could rend.

She channeled Mana to tear it. Each strike felt like hitting solid steel. Only faint ripples answered.

"Indeed. A new space forged by layered dimensions."

Moon Owl glided through the wall. Tempered by space and time, she needed no tear—just a thought to vanish between realms.

"That borrowed space magic of yours will never escape my grasp."

Moon Owl’s hand shot forward—swift, precise. Fingers clamped the Guardian’s cheek with unyielding force.

In a flash, she yanked back—and peeled the entire face away.

Silence froze the air. The detached face drifted down, eerie and horrifying. Beneath it, the Guardian’s face was a bloody, mangled mess, eyes wide with terror and despair.

Her aura plummeted. The "Ultimate" power within faded. Strength collapsed from Ultimate down to ordinary Chapter Three level.

"My power… My… throne."

Her voice trembled. Shaking hands pressed against the raw flesh, seeking lost dignity. Eyes burned with defiance, rage—but mostly fear of the unknown.

She fumbled in the void. After a long moment, fingers found soft, slightly warm skin.

She clutched it like a lifeline. A fierce hope surged—if she wore it again, Ultimate power would return!

The skin writhed, crawling up her mangled arm of its own accord.

Feeling strength return, she cried out in relief—then Moon Owl ripped it away again.

"You…!!"

She shot a venomous glare at Moon Owl’s shadowy form—then slumped. All resistance gone.

"This power you clung to… utterly repulsive."

Moon Owl tossed the squirming skin—still trying to replace flesh—into layered space, sealing it away.

"May it never see the light of day again."

Crowned Moon Owl approached. Without a word, she gestured. Space itself pierced the Guardian’s body, cold and final.