Haruto's body lay still, but his mind burned like a forge.
Inside the sealed vision, the clash between him and his throne-bound self tore through the false realm. Blades sparked, thoughts collided, and every strike echoed with choices—paths taken, and ones he'd never dared to walk.
Outside the vision, Serenya knelt beside him, her hands glowing as she pushed healing energy into his chest.
"He's locked in a temporal battle," she said urgently. "Fighting… himself."
Lucien drew his daggers, spinning them idly. "Great. So, do we wait and hope he doesn't lose, or start stabbing his evil twin in the brain?"
Serenya shot him a glare. "We move only if his pulse falters. Anything else could sever the link—and kill him."
Inside the vision, Haruto's final strike shattered the illusion.
The throne-bound self staggered back, bleeding shadow.
"You fear becoming me," he hissed. "But you will. The world needs a monster to survive what's coming."
"I won't be a monster," Haruto said, panting. "I'll be the blade that chooses what to cut."
With a cry, he drove the Nullblade through the shadow's chest.
The vision fractured.
Light burst through him.
---
Haruto gasped awake.
His chest heaved, and the Nullblade—now etched with a glowing rune—hummed with dormant power. The first god-forged seal had been claimed.
Serenya wrapped him in a tight embrace before quickly pulling back. "You were out for almost ten minutes. The Herald's chamber… it's starting to collapse."
Lucien helped him to his feet. "What did you see?"
Haruto didn't answer immediately. His eyes were distant, staring through time itself.
"I saw a path that ends in ashes," he whispered. "And I saw the hand that lights the fire. It wasn't mine."
Serenya's brow furrowed. "Then whose was it?"
Haruto looked up slowly, voice low. "A king who doesn't yet wear a crown."