In the hollowed ruins of a forgotten time temple, reality seemed fractured. Gigantic gears hovered mid-air, unmoving yet brimming with potential. Strange colors danced across the sky—gold, crimson, violet—impossible hues that didn't belong to this timeline or any other.

At the center of it all floated the Time Eater, its massive form pulsing with cosmic power. It made no sound, no motion—just hovered in the air like a god waiting to be unleashed.

A lone figure—bold or foolish—dared to step into the ancient arena.

High above, hidden within the distorted folds of time, Dr. Eggman stood aboard a floating control platform, a manic grin stretched across his face. Tubes and wires connected the controls of his machine to the creature below, like nerves to a titan.

“Well, well,” Eggman sneered, watching the screen. “Another brave soul hoping to stop me? Pathetic.”

He slammed his gloved fist onto the console, eyes gleaming behind his tinted glasses. “Let’s see how you handle... this!”

Down below, the Time Eater’s core ignited with a silent fury—no roar, no warning. It turned its blank, glowing gaze toward the intruder. That one look, cold and eternal, was enough to paralyze even the strongest heart.

Then it struck.

Temporal tendrils burst outward. The air shattered like glass. Gears spun with deafening screeches, tearing the ground apart. The sky twisted, time itself convulsing in the presence of such raw, unnatural power.

Eggman watched, cackling with joy.

“You can’t stop the inevitable! I control time now! Past, present, future—it’s all mine!”

As the Time Eater continued its relentless assault, warping the world around it with precise, merciless blows, it became clear—this wasn’t just a monster.

This was Eggman's masterpiece.