Active: Hurls an hourglass at the densest group of opponents, Imprisoning the target and opponents within 1 hex for 2.5s. The hourglass explodes after 2.5s, dealing 410% Magic DMG to opponents within 1 hex of it.
Faeflux is silent and calm, cutting off all the sounds around it...
Story
From outside the window, Faeflux peeks timidly within. It has been watching this way for a long time.
The faint glow of the hourglass in its arms brushes across the knotted joints of the man lying ill in bed. Beneath his white hair escapes a half-whispered dream-something like "cold. "From the corridor, the white steam of simmering medicine drifts in, carrying the sour bitterness of boiled herbs. In a blur, the figure on the bed overlaps with the bright youth of more than ten years past. Faeflux has already lost count of how many times it has turned the hourglass in all these years. It watches the "Change" of humanity... Is this what composes "Fate"?
Old: "Gathering Nexus like luminous sand to its breast, fate swirls as grains of light. Faeflux observes the bottle's transformations, a silent witness to all, disclosing nothing."
New: "Gathering Nexus close to its chest, Faeflux watches fate drift and swirl in glimmering motes. A silent witness to the bottle's transformations, it reveals nothing."
Story was updated:
Old: "From outside the window, Faeflux peeks timidly within. It has been watching this way for a long time. The faint glow of the hourglass in its arms brushes across the knotted joints of the man lying ill in bed. Beneath his white hair escapes a half-whispered dream-something like "cold. "From the corridor, the white steam of simmering medicine drifts in, carrying the sour bitterness of boiled herbs. In a blur, the figure on the bed overlaps with the bright youth of more than ten years past. Faeflux has already lost count of how many times it has turned the hourglass in all these years. It watches the "Change" of humanity... Is this what composes "Fate"?"
New: "Peeking through the window, Faeflux keeps its vigil. Its hourglass casts a gentle light on the man in bed, tracing the map of his years onto his knotted hands as a half-dreamt word, "Cold," escapes his lips. The bitter aroma of herbs steams from a nearby pot. Suddenly, memory and reality blur. The old man is a young boy once more. How many times has Faeflux turned the sands, watching this constant, human "change"? This, it wonders, is what they call "fate," isn't it?"
