The Architect of Entropy. He doesn't destroy; he *re-organizes* the inevitable. His methods are...chronometric. He charts the decay of structures, not with measurements of time, but with the viscosity of their disintegration. A single touch, a precisely timed resonance, and a building will unravel like a forgotten dream. Some whisper he’s a ghost, a byproduct of a failed experiment in temporal mechanics. Others claim he’s a guardian, subtly guiding the collapse of systems that threaten to become too rigid, too perfect. He collects fragments, not of stone, but of potential futures.
His tools aren't hammers and saws, but devices crafted from polished obsidian and pulsating quartz. He manipulates the flow of chrono-particles – minuscule echoes of moments already past – creating localized distortions in the fabric of reality. A building might momentarily revert to its foundation, then to its cornerstone, then to nothing. The sensation is akin to falling through layers of memory, a disconcerting blend of familiarity and utter obliteration. He leaves behind only the residue: fractured geometries, shimmering dust, and a lingering sense of profound disorientation.
“Every structure is a wound. I simply accelerate its natural healing—or, perhaps, its final, elegant surrender.” - The Demolitionist
The Chronometric Fragments - These are echoes, remnants of the Demolitionist's work. They shift, shimmer, and occasionally display brief, unsettling glimpses of alternate timelines. Analyzing them is…difficult. They resist conventional methods of study, behaving as if they actively wish to be forgotten.