At least, that's what they told her.
Within a decade, the fracture had grown. It pulsed like an artery, bleeding past and future into the present. Dinosaurs roamed the outskirts of Paris. Neon-lit phantoms of the 23rd century flickered through the streets of Tokyo. Time began to collapse in on itself, not as a single cataclysm, but as a slow, maddening unraveling. time lord
And in the eye of that storm, a child was born. At least, that's what they told her
She raised her hand, and the fracture stopped growing. not as a single cataclysm