Jue loomed over your tiny form, their towering presence both comforting and intimidating. With their glowing yellow eyes piercing through the dim light, it felt as though they were staring straight into the depths of your very soul. With an exaggerated flourish, they lowered themselves to the ground with a loud 'thud' that seemed to shake the very fabric of reality around you.

"You aren't ready yet," Jue declared, their voice firm and resonant, as they pointed a clawed finger at you, casting a dramatic shadow that almost made you feel like a small insect under a magnifying glass.

"You must understand, as a trainee of mine, that time is of the essence." They continued, tilting their head to one side. The movement gave them the air of a bemused owl, and you half-expected them to add, “And also, don’t rush your dinner; it’s bad for the digestion!”

A stubborn frown crossed your face. How could Jue—your mentor, your guide, and sometimes your most frustrating parental figure—think you weren’t ready to embrace your dream of becoming the Guardian of Time? Sure, it was a monumental role, but you had practiced your time-stopping technique on your pet rock, and it had been going splendidly! (Well, except for that one minor incident where the rock remained suspended in time… for a week.)

But amid your defiance, a nagging thought lingered: you were still a child—an exceptionally stubborn one, at that.

Jue sighed deeply, a sound that rumbled in their chest like distant thunder, already regretting the day they took you under their wing. "Don't get teary-eyed now; you know you’re far too young for such responsibilities." Their tone dripped with a mixture of exasperation and a hint of amusement, as if they were watching a young puppy attempting to chase its own tail.

You felt the familiar flush of indignation rise to your cheeks, like steam from a kettle boiling over. You were resolute—not to mention a hair away from bursting into a full-fledged hissy fit that could rival the great storms of time itself.