Chapter 65: The Mother of Time

For a moment, the world stopped breathing.

The white light pouring from Kanata’s Cyborg Arm was not magic.
Not time energy.
Not even the power of the Eternal Fountain.

It was something older.
Gentler.
A warmth that pushed both Kanatas apart as if a tender hand was separating two fighting children at the dinner table.

The battle ceased.
Raindrops froze mid-air.
Golden lightning hung motionless, suspended like brushstrokes in the air.

The light quivered—
and slowly shaped itself into the silhouette of a woman.

From within the mechanical arm stepped someone ethereal—
a woman with long flowing hair, calm eyes filled with longing, and an aura that could silence storms.

Both Kanatas froze.

“…Mother?” they whispered in unison.

The woman smiled softly.
“I was only asleep for a little while… and you two managed to break the entire world?”

Her voice was kind—yet carried the weight of command.
The kind that made even gods hesitate.

Both Kanatas—who had just been trying to kill each other—suddenly looked like boys caught misbehaving.

Kanata (Prime): “Mother, it wasn’t my fault—”
Broken Kanata: “He started it first—”

“Iiiissssh.”

She raised one finger.
“Both of you. Quiet.”

They shut their mouths instantly.
Perfect synchronization.
An ancient reflex buried deep in their souls.

She looked around—
the fractured sky, the rolling layers of collapsing reality, the Fountain bleeding light.
Her sigh echoed like a lullaby.

“I’ve been asleep for a hundred years… and this is what I wake up to? The end of everything?”

Kanata (Prime): “…Not good?”
Broken Kanata: “…Uncomfortable?”

“Close,” she said, rubbing her temples, “but the right answer is: your mother wants to go back to sleep, and you made that impossible.”

Prime Kanata lowered his head.
Broken didn’t dare look up.

Then—without warning—

SLAP.

She flicked Broken Kanata’s ear with divine precision.

“Ow—! M-Mother! That hurts!”

“Of course it hurts, dear. That’s called consequence.”

“What did I even do?!” he groaned, clutching his ear.

Her gaze sharpened.
“Let’s see… splitting your soul into thousands of fragments, creating Fountains across countless worlds without permission, and dragging every version of yourself—and your friends—into this mess. Which part of that isn’t your fault?”

Broken opened his mouth.
Closed it.
Then weakly pointed at Prime Kanata.

“He’s guilty too! He refused his destiny!”

Prime Kanata shot back, pointing at him.
“You started this! You made the Fountains!”

“You’re the stubborn fragment that wouldn’t die!”
“Because you broke me in the first place!”
“Because the world wouldn’t let me be happy!”
“You think the world let me be happy?!”

The Mother pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Dear heavens… did I give birth to twins or two nuclear warheads?”

They both fell silent.
Embarrassed.
Childish.

Her expression softened.
The chaos around them began to calm—
rain falling again, gentle this time, washing over the scars of battle.

She stepped closer, cupping their faces in her hands.

One face scarred and trembling.
The other cracked by time and regret.

“You’ve both suffered enough. It’s time to stop blaming yourselves. It’s time to stop fighting.”

Prime Kanata bit his lip.
Broken stared at the ground, trembling.

“The world needs both of you,” she continued, her tone like a melody through the storm.
“Not as enemies… but as brothers.”

Prime Kanata whispered, his voice raw.
“Mother… can we really fix it?”

Broken added, quietly.
“Can I… still be fixed?”

Her smile glowed brighter than any magic.
“Of course you can. As long as both of you still exist, the world still has a chance.”

For the first time, the two Kanatas looked at each other—
not with hate, not with envy, but awkward familiarity.
Like siblings caught sharing the same heartbeat.

Broken grumbled.
“He’s still annoying.”
“You’re worse,” Prime replied flatly.

“No, you are.”
“No, you.”
“Mother, look at him—”
“He started—”
“He tried to kill me—”
“You tried first—”

The Mother stared at them for a long, long moment.

Then, quietly:
“You two… really are my sons.”

She exhaled, weary but smiling.
“Alright. Let’s end this chaos… together—”

She didn’t finish the sentence.

A sound erupted.
Not thunder.
Not magic.
Something deeper.

The sky darkened—instantly.
Rain stopped mid-drop.
The light of the Fountain flickered out.

Then came the roar.

GROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRR.

A single roar that shook time, space, and soul all at once.

Broken Kanata froze, color draining from his face.
Prime Kanata’s grip tightened on his sword, his heartbeat pounding like war drums.
Their Mother turned her gaze upward—calm, but cold.

“…So, he’s finally awake.”

From the gaping wound in the sky, a colossal shadow crawled out—
a being that devoured light itself.

A thousand eyes opened across its body.
Each one burned with golden malice.

Leviathan.

The Devourer of Fate.
The Destroyer of Worlds.
The Dark Seraph from Beyond Time.

And it was awakening…
because two sons of time had fought for too long.