By his side bounced Pukey Apple Guy, the mouldy, mischievous fruit anomaly from a corrupted timeline, his green skin oozing organic slime that could short-circuit tech and spawn hilarious distractions.

Timmy adjusted his Time Hopper backpack, its glowing circuits humming with echo artifacts scavenged from lost epochs. "Alright, Pukey, this Fracture Point isn't just any rip—it's the Reality Fracture from 2018, the one that birthed Nimrod's madness. If we navigate it right, we can slip into the In-Between and snag a fragment of Lucille's compassion frequency. The Citadel needs it to stabilize their Aegis Dome against another Ripping."

Pukey gurgled, his toothy grin splitting like a rotten core. "Hee-hee, boss! Me disrupt big bad cyber-god's toys? Pukey love! But if we go back too far—boom! CDS make us apple sauce!" He spat a seed that fizzed against Timmy's boot, dissolving a patch of temporal rust.

The duo stood at the edge of the Fracture, a swirling vortex in the ruins of what was once a bustling city. Aurora-like temporal fractures danced in the sky, electric blues clashing with the warm golds of safe zones below. The air thrummed with metaphysical pressure, where causality bent and souls echoed like distant screams. This was no ordinary portal; it was the origin scar from Nimrod's Eclipse Paradox Project—a failed time jump that fused the Benevolent Corp's founder, born David in 2000, into a cyber-magical god-king. Now, Nimrod ruled from his cryo-preserved throne, harvesting spiritual energy to enforce his global caste system, viewing history and souls as resources for his "eutopia."

With a deep breath, Timmy morphed slightly, his form shifting to mimic a Wrathborn warrior—armored in rage-forged plates, eyes glowing with Katsu Yuki's righteous anger. "Forward only, Pukey. We're jumping to intercept a repopulation scheme. Nimrod's cults are pulling doomed children from the past into his sterile futures. We save them, disrupt the siphon on Lucille's power, and get out."

Pukey nodded, his stem-like antennae twitching. "Pukey ready! Curse of Golden Apple time!" He swelled, exuding a fruity aura that masked their resonance from demonic sensors.

They leaped into the Fracture. Reality tore around them like glass shattering in slow motion. The In-Between enveloped them—a living canvas of thought, emotions swirling as nebulae of intention. Ideas manifested as floating islands: one a dreamtime meadow where ancient Primes like Crispus Flavius Maximus meditated, another a nightmare storm of Nimrod's engineered utopias, where souls were commodified into batteries.

But the path was treacherous. As they hurtled forward, temporal eddies pulled at them. "Hold on!" Timmy shouted, his Hopper deploying stabilizers. A swarm of Nimrod's corrupted AI drones—fractured echoes of his cyber-magical consciousness—descended, their lasers slicing through the void. "Intruders in the Veil! Harvest for the God-King!"

Pukey cackled and hurled globs of organic muck. The slime hit the drones, infiltrating circuits with mouldy chaos. Sparks flew as tech fused with fruit, birthing bizarre hybrids: drones sprouting apple trees, their attacks turning into harmless seed barrages. "Take that, metal meanies! Pukey turn you into pie!"

Timmy morphed again, adopting Luna the Moonlight Fox's spectral agility to dodge blasts. They weaved through a gauntlet of Ripping scars—zones where streets from 0 AD overlapped with 2990's dystopian spires. In one echo, they glimpsed Crispus's ancient retreat, his Nephilim bloodline pulsing with raw power. In another, Abt al-Matin's Citadel loomed, its Core-Tether Spire anchoring hope amid the wreckage.

Deeper in, they reached the heart of the Fracture: a nexus where Nimrod's ReGenesis Program pulsed. Here, the cyber-god siphoned Lucille Yuki's compassion—the Restoration Line Prime, abducted in 2018-2050 and held in a coma-simulation. Her energy stabilized his immortality tech, perverting her healing into a tool for soul trafficking. Ghostly children floated in stasis pods, yanked from past atrocities to fuel his "benevolent" order.

"Look there!" Timmy pointed. A massive demonic beast, guardian of the nexus, roared—a catastrophe-class entity from the In-Between, its form a mash of iron legions and digital glitches.

Pukey swelled to giant size, embodying his "Fruity Hero" legend. "Pukey protect! Golden Apple Curse—activate!" He unleashed a torrent of cursed apples, each exploding into vines that entangled the beast, disrupting its metaphysical bonds.

Timmy channeled his adaptation, morphing into a hybrid of Duty and Wrath: Abt's protective shield fused with Katsu's soul detonation. He blasted a rage-infused barrier, holding the beast at bay. "Now, Pukey— the siphon core!"

With mischievous glee, Pukey slimed the central node, his organic mischief corrupting Nimrod's tech. The siphon fractured, releasing a burst of Lucille's pure empathy. It washed over the children, awakening them from stasis. Souls realigned, forward momentum restored.

But the beast lunged, forcing a desperate evasion. "We can't go back—CDS!" Timmy warned. Using the Hopper's map, he plotted a forward exit, pulling the rescued kids through a safe corridor to the Citadel's outer rings.

As they emerged on Athera's scarred surface, the Fracture sealed behind them with a thunderous crack. The children, temporal refugees, blinked in awe at the Aegis Dome's glow. Timmy demorphed, grinning wearily. "Mission accomplished. Nimrod's eutopia just got a little less perfect."

Pukey deflated, burping seeds. "Hee-hee! Pukey hero! Next time, we save more? Maybe find yummy timelines?"

In the distance, the Citadel's defenders cheered, the stolen compassion fragment bolstering their shields. Yet the Unintentional War raged on—good intentions forging metaphysical hells, saviors clashing in the shadows. Timmy and Pukey, the whimsical wildcard and his fruity sidekick, had woven a thread of hope into the frayed tapestry of time. For in a universe of Primes and paradoxes, even a boy and his apple could tip the scales toward healing.