The figure's visage contorted with an overwhelming rage, his features contorted into a mask of furious indignation.
Every line on his face seemed etched with bitterness and contempt, revealing the depth of his resentment.
"To think they would stab us in the back while we … … … ! If only the connection with my main body hasn't been severed, I'd eradicate these ungrateful bastards myself!"
As the figure's words erupted from his lips, his body seemed to tremble with a raw intensity, his reverend side radiating waves of fury that pulsed through the air.
But as the conversation unfolded, the same strange distortion as earlier tainted the space between them.
It twisted and contorted, censoring certain fragments of the figure's speech, as if Chronos, in his present state, was deemed unworthy of the complete truth.
It was as if the universe itself sought to exclude him from the knowledge that lay beyond his grasp.
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