Chapter One: Prologue

This was a scene that would evoke terror and despair in anyone who witnessed it. The world was shrouded in darkness, the sun hanging high in the sky yet casting only a cold, yellow light devoid of warmth. The ground was riddled with cracks, with sections that had caved in and collapsed.

Amidst this apocalyptic landscape, a solitary figure stood resolutely upon a patch of earth that seemed somewhat intact. In her hand she held a pen, and she waved it through the air, sketching with swift, deliberate strokes. Miraculously, images began to appear in the air—what emerged resembled a clock composed of countless interlocking gears.

Amid the rumbling sound of collapsing earth, one sound stood out: the gentle patter of water droplets falling onto the ground—drip, drip. Upon closer inspection, it was blood dripping from the wrist of the woman’s other hand.

After some time, the woman pressed the pen to her bleeding wrist and continued her drawing. When even the ground beneath her feet began to tremble, she finally set down her pen. Gazing at the enormous phantom clock before her, she smiled, her face pale and bloodless, her body wavering unsteadily.

“As your creator, I, Mu Yin, give you your name: Temporal Gear,” she declared. “I grant you power—to twist time and space.”

Placing her hand upon the clock, she paid no heed to the widening fissures at her feet. She channeled her strength into the clock, her pallor growing ever more pronounced. At last, just as she was about to collapse, the gears burst forth with dazzling light, solidifying into tangible form. They shrank steadily until they rested in her palm.

“Take me back to the moment before it all began.”

As the ground beneath her started to cave in, she pressed a button on the clock. The hands began to spin rapidly counterclockwise, whirling over a hundred times. Suddenly, blinding light erupted; it seemed a door was opening. The woman floated up from the earth, transformed into a beam of light that shot through the gateway. The portal slowly closed, leaving behind a wasteland—molten lava and seawater swallowed the gaping cracks.

Days later, the beautiful Blue Star exploded, leaving not even a trace of meteorite debris. That year was Blue Star Calendar 2112. A lone spaceship drifted slowly into the distance.

Chapter 1: Prologue of "Painter of Myriad Worlds"
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