And I said—
"I am not your heir."
The words left my mouth like a verdict. Not just spoken — declared. Not to the High Priest. Not to Selene. But to the throne itself.
The room answered.
The air exploded outward, shattering stained-glass depictions of false gods and traitor-kings. The golden veins etched into the floor ignited, lighting up a forgotten sigil that pulsed with ancient code.
"System Alert: Genetic Lineage Override."
"Origin tag rejected."
"New classification: ANOMALY."
Selene stumbled backward. "You—You rejected the throne?"
I didn't answer.
Because I wasn't alone.
Inside me, the versions stirred. Not in chaos — but in formation. A parliament of memory and war, grief and rebellion. Slave. Scholar. Knight. Tyrant. King. Every version of me stood aligned — until one stepped forward.
The First Me.
The one they never erased, because he was never written.
And he spoke: "Let them remember what they buried."
⸻
A deep cracking sound echoed from the throne.
It moved.
Not a mechanical shift — not magic. It turned like it was waking up after centuries of forced obedience. Gold flaked off its surface like ash, revealing obsidian thorns that spiraled upward, pulsing with lifeblood.
"System Rebooting: Host recognized as Prime Error."
"Accessing locked archives…"
"UNSEALING: Thronebound Error 000."
Selene's eyes widened. "What the hell is a Thronebound Error?"
The High Priest appeared in the far archway. He looked older now. Not physically. Spiritually. The color drained from his ceremonial robes. His staff flickered with dying runes.
"You activated it," he hissed. "You woke up the memory buried beneath the kingdom."
I turned to him.
"No," I said. "We woke it."
The throne pulsed again. Symbols I'd never seen before shimmered above it, spelling words in a language I once screamed in a battlefield timeline.
One symbol stood out: ☲
Warbirth.
⸻
I took a step forward.
The throne didn't wait.
It lunged.
Not physically—but through the system.
"Warning: Soul Overlap at 99.9%."
"Fatal Error—Two Thrones Cannot Be Claimed."
"Conflict Detected: Entity Version_113 vs Entity Version_47."
Me vs me.
Somewhere in the code, one version had survived their own execution… and had tried to claim the throne first.
"Version_47?" I whispered.
A voice boomed, hollow and familiar:
"You were too slow."
And then—he stepped out.
A version of me dressed in obsidian armor etched with the seal of the High Priest. His eyes glowed like fractured glass. His smile was wrong.
"Version_113," he mocked, "You're the rebel. The cursed one. The glitch. I'm the version they rebuilt. Perfected. Crowned."
I said nothing.
He laughed. "Oh, don't sulk. They killed you. I was born from the hole they left behind."
Selene screamed as he raised his hand and the walls of the throne room peeled away — showing not stone, but code.
Reality was cracking.
⸻
The kingdom flickered. One second: marble and stained glass. The next: floating strings of system commands and corrupted memories. I saw myself kneeling on battlefields. Burning in temples. Staring into mirrors that reflected someone else.
"Stop this!" Selene cried. "This throne belongs to the true heir!"
Both of us answered at once.
"I am the true heir."
The throne split in half.
⚠️ "System Critical: Dual Crown Rejection Detected."
⚠️ "Autonomous defense protocols initiated."
⚠️ "Memory Core unlocked: Last ruler—Erased. Reason: Throne Collapse."
The past ruler wasn't dethroned.
He was deleted.
Because the throne couldn't decide who he was.
⸻
"Choose," the throne whispered in a thousand voices.
But how do you choose between two versions of yourself — both made from betrayal, both forged in fire?
You don't.
You rewrite the throne.
I raised my palm and placed it on the sigil.
"System," I said, "Override protocol."
"Command code: Kingdom Breaker."
Version_47 shouted, "That code was sealed!"
"I know," I said. "Because I sealed it. In a loop you didn't survive."
He lunged. I caught his blade — not with magic. With memory. The first timeline, the one they tried to delete, burned into my skin like scripture.
"System merging souls—"
"ERROR. ERROR."
"System cannot—"
BOOM.
A sound like a dying god tore through the realm.
Version_47 vanished in static.
I stood alone, the throne melting into red light beneath me.
And from the fading dust…
A girl walked forward.
Not Selene.
Not a priest.
A child.
She had my eyes.
She held a blade.
And she said, calmly,
"I'm your daughter. And I was born to kill you."