[Intro — a velvet fracture in the void] The silence quivered, then curdled—sweet as rotting fruit in air, And a voice poured out like dark velvet sliding down a cosmic stair. “Puuuuuurfect…” it purred, savoring the syllables’ slow descent, A whisper-soaked verdict curling around a fate already bent. [Verse I] Aevithis stood unmoving, draped in midnight’s choking glaze, Skin split into fractured rivers leaking amethyst haze. Colorless shadows mapped her shape like a doll carved from eclipse, While vapor bled from every crack, sighing through phantom lips. [Pre-Chorus I] Across from her, space convulsed—time folding inward on itself, And something ancient stirred awake, climbing from its shelf. Chronos manifested, not born but remembered, A forgotten ache in the spine of time Newly dismembered. [Chorus I — the villain enters] Clockwork laughter in his grin, golden orbs where eyes should gleam, Symbols shifting, morphing, breaking—never settling into theme. A mouth made of clock hands clicked with predatory delight, As he cooed to his broken puppet At the threshold of the night. The cosmos bent— And even silence seemed afraid. [Hook I — metallic whisper] Tick-tide… time wide… worlds slide (worlds slide) Where Chronos won’t abide. [Verse II] He admired Aevithis with a puppeteer’s indulgent pride, Fingers hovering near her form like a sculptor testing his guide. She didn’t lift her gaze, didn’t breathe, didn’t sway— Just stood as the void reshaped itself around his chosen clay. [Verse III] Chronos reached out a shimmering hand, brushing her ruined glow, Dark praise dripping from each word he let the cosmos know. “These mortals,” he crooned, “have done the labor none of us foresaw— Making ruin effortless, my perfect little flaw.” [Pre-Chorus II] He flicked his wrist and screens burst open—shards of mortal light, News feeds, riots, storms, famine, fractured insight. “What is internet?” he mused, contempt curling at the seam, As though mortal invention tasted like an inconvenient dream. [Chorus II — cosmic contempt, delighted cruelty] Clockwork god of broken hours, waking from an age-long slumber, Counting down a world unraveling with mechanical hunger. “Look what they’ve done for me,” he whispered with a grin, “Three-quarters of my work completed—without a drop of sin.” His laughter rattled cosmos-bones, Each note a grinding gear. [Hook II — echo of metal scraping] Click-turn… worlds burn… tides churn (tides churn) As old gods return. [Verse IV] He studied the screens, his golden orbs widening with surprise, As though the mortals’ catastrophe delighted something feral in his eyes. “Do you think,” he murmured softly, “my damnable family will arise? Is the reunion overdue, traced in these mortal cries?” [Verse V] He leaned toward Aevithis, his shadow stretching long, A monarch of dissonance humming an ancient, dreadful song. “Tell me, my puppet—shall we prepare the world to kneel? Isn’t it lovely what despair helps us reveal?” [Pre-Chorus III] Aevithis answered nothing—not a tremor, not a breath— Just the faintest pulse of amethyst mist curling like creeping death. Chronos’s grin widened, savoring her silence like a prayer, A confirmation wrapped in emptiness, perfect in its snare. [Chorus III — the gears of fate begin turning] Clock-hands for lips, time-symbols dancing, A laugh like age-old cogs entrancing. The world is cracking—Chronos knows, And every fracture in the timeline grows. He calls it perfect, A masterpiece of doom— And the cosmos trembles In that grinding gloom. [Hook III — fading like a rusted pendulum] Grind slow… shadows grow… time’s foe (time’s foe) Rises from below. [Outro — the villain claims the stage] He reveled in the silence, in Aevithis’ broken poise, In the pulse of mortal chaos feeding his reborn joys. And as the gears of ages turned with resurrecting might, Chronos laughed— A sound of worlds deforming— Grinding metal in the night.
