Time Stops.
Not just on the battlefield. Not just in the kingdom. Not just in this reality.
Everything. Everywhere.
The ripple of Ethan's last word—"Stop"—was not just a command. It was an absolute. It was law. It was the first and only rule of a world that bent to his will. The Rift Master, a being that had existed before stars learned to shine, a force of entropy made flesh, froze. Its ever-shifting form locked mid-transformation, caught between endless possibilities, unable to choose.
Even the wind had stopped. The sky hung in place, the burning embers of the ruined battlefield suspended mid-air like frozen raindrops. A warrior, mid-fall, remained there, limbs sprawled but unmoving.
Nothing in existence moved.
Nothing except for Ethan.