Work Text:
Twilight still feels the hands.
One clawing around his neck, the other millimetres from his right eye, sulfuric breath in his face, air bearing the heat of molten rock, as the incarnation of evil spits at him and threatens to take his eye to match his predecessor.
He hadn't thought much of it, until he met Time, and then it clicked.
Wait.
What did he mean by “predecessor?”
Didn't they establish that Time was the hero before Wind?
“Old man, I fear you may have irreversibly fucked with multiple timelines. Unless any of you know another Link with one eye.”