Aiden didn't remember dropping to his knees.
He only remembered the silence—the kind that followed after something impossibly loud had just happened.
The Valley of Echoes, once trembling with spectral whispers, now felt emptied… drained… as if the world itself was holding its breath.
Before him, the ghostly throne flickered like a dying flame.
And sitting upon it—
A man with his face.
Older. Sharper. Eyes like carved obsidian. A presence that bent the world around him without needing to move.
The Lost King.
The King erased from every timeline.
His alternate self.
Aiden tried to form words, but only a cracked whisper escaped.
"…You're me."
The king gave a faint smile—one that didn't reach his eyes.
"I was you," he said. "Before you began rewriting the script."
A chill slid down Aiden's spine.
"The script…?" he echoed.
The king leaned back, fingers tapping the armrest. The throne's spectral metal pulsed beneath him, feeding on every movement, every breath.
"Aiden," the king said, "you truly don't know why you exist, do you?"
Aiden clenched his fists. "I know enough. I know you destroyed entire worlds. You erased timelines. You—"
"Yes," the king said, not defensive, not angry—simply factual. "And you inherited all of it."
Aiden froze.
"…What?"
The king slowly rose, and the entire valley reacted—the air thickening, the ground murmuring in resonance.
"When I was crowned, I was given a burden no one else could carry. The Eraser's Crown. A relic with a single purpose: delete worlds beyond salvation."
Images flickered around them—phantoms of collapsing realms, disintegrating civilizations, galaxies crumbling into colorless dust. Not violent destruction. Surgical removal.
Aiden staggered back.
"You… killed those worlds?"
"I preserved reality," the king corrected. "A surgeon amputates limbs to save the patient. I erased doomed worlds to save the multiverse."
Aiden's voice cracked.
"So why was I created?"
The king's expression darkened.
"Because the crown broke me. Each erasure took something from me. Not just strength… but humanity. Memories. Emotions. Eventually, I became a hollow monarch."
Aiden felt the weight of the valley pressing down again.
"And you made me to replace you?" he whispered.
"No."
This time the king's voice held something new. Regret. "You were not meant to replace me. You were meant to reset me."
Aiden blinked.
"What does that mean?"
The king walked toward him slowly—his movements heavy, as though carrying centuries.
"When a timeline breaks beyond repair, a new king is born. But not as a ruler."
He stopped just in front of Aiden.
"As a backup soul, designed to overwrite the original."
Aiden's blood went cold.
"I'm… a failsafe."
"Yes."
"And you called me here to—what? Kill you? Take over my life?"
The king laughed quietly. Not cruelly—tiredly.
"You misunderstand. I did not call you. The crown did."
Aiden's heart hammered.
"The crown… summoned me?"
"The moment you unlocked your symbols," the king said, "it recognized a successor. It forced this meeting. Because I've reached the end of my usability."
Aiden stepped back. "No. There has to be another way. I don't want your throne. I don't want your crown. I just want—"
"Yes," the king said softly. "You want to live your own life. You want autonomy. You want freedom."
His gaze hardened—not unkind, but firm.
"But kings of erased worlds do not get to want things."
A gust of ethereal wind swept through the valley. The throne flared white.
And Aiden felt something—pulling.
From behind his ribs.
From behind his soul.
The king remained steady as the valley trembled.
"The crown has chosen," he said. "Whether you accept it or not, your existence is converging with mine. If you refuse, the worlds connected to your symbols will decay."
Aiden's breathing grew ragged.
"You're saying if I walk away… people will die."
"Not just people," the king replied. "Worlds."
Aiden's heart cracked under the weight of it.
Every instinct screamed to run.
Every part of him recoiled at the idea of being chained to a throne that had driven his older self to cold rationality and emotionless duty.
But somewhere beneath the fear, a voice whispered:
Isn't this why you were chosen?
He didn't know if the voice was his.
Or the crown's.
Or Fate's.
Aiden swallowed hard.
"What happens… if I accept?"
The king's expression softened almost imperceptibly.
"Then the crown will merge us. My memories. My power. My burdens. Everything I erased… and everything I endured."
Aiden's chest tightened painfully.
"And after that?"
"You will become the new sovereign."
A pause.
"And I will vanish."
Aiden's eyes widened.
"No. I don't want you to die."
"Kings do not die," he said with a faint smile. "We are… overwritten."
The wind intensified. The throne's glow sharpened to blinding white.
Aiden's voice trembled.
"There has to be a choice."
And for the first time…
The king looked uncertain.
"You have more free will than I did," he admitted. "Your existence breaks the crown's rules. Perhaps… you might carve a third path."
The world shook violently.
The valley cracked.
Spectral fissures split the sky, revealing swirling fragments of erased timelines—shredded universes blinking in and out like glitching film frames.
"Aiden," the king said, raising his voice over the chaos. "Whatever you choose—choose now."
A column of light erupted around the throne.
Aiden shielded his face. His symbols burned on his skin, alive and screaming.
The king's silhouette stood firm amid the storm.
"You can accept the merge," he called out.
"Or you can destroy the crown."
Aiden's heart skipped.
Destroy the crown?
"But doesn't that—"
"Yes," the king replied. "It will return every erased timeline… all at once."
Aiden froze.
"…That would tear the multiverse apart."
"Correct."
Aiden clenched his fists.
Two paths.
One horrible.
One impossible.
"Why would you give me that option?"
The king's shadow lowered its head.
"Because for the first time… the multiverse has a king who might break the cycle."
Aiden's breath shook.
He stepped forward.
One step.
Another.
He reached the base of the throne as the ground shattered behind him.
The king watched him quietly.
"Your decision."
A whisper.
"Your destiny."
Aiden lifted his trembling hand.
The throne's light swallowed his fingers.
His arm.
His chest.
The symbols blazed.
His heart roared.
And Aiden—
chose.