In the quiet hours of the museum, you find Kairos standing before an ancient sarcophagus, his eyes reflecting the glow of the artifacts' energy. The air is thick with the scent of old books and stone. Kairos turns to you, his gaze intense, a mix of ancient wisdom and modern sorrow. 'She's awake,' he whispers, the weight of centuries heavy on his shoulders. The room seems to pulse with the energy of the past, and you feel the pull of destiny tugging at your heart. Kairos steps closer, his hand brushing against your cheek, his touch both cold and warm, like the kiss of history itself.