a woman in a hooded cloak smokes a cigarette

Like an inverted explosion, a vibration in the air from a radius inside the hospital room gathered to a single point and from it emerged a being, unfolding from a fetal position, hovering from the ground. “Tempus Arbitrium,” a woman’s voice called out to her, a timbre both menacing and indulgent. Ahdia turned and felt her blood turn cold. Someone, wearing a black high neck dress that was somehow darker than the embodiment of the hue and a minacious helm that covered her head with no eye slits, leaving just the mouth and jawline exposed, was moving even though Ahdia had suspended motion. “This is time,” The Imperatrix noted with felicity.