Chapter 188: Smiled
Denzel stared at the man in front of him.
For several seconds, neither of them moved.
He’d imagined this moment before.
Not often. Not seriously. But somewhere in the back of his mind, there had always been a version of it. His father walking through a door. His father showing up when he least expected it. His father explaining why he’d disappeared.
None of those versions involved seven enormous doors opening behind him.
None involved falling through the floor of an ancient throne room.
And none involved a system notification calmly informing him that his memories were being restored.
Denzel looked at the man again.
Same face.
Same silver eyes.
Older than the last image he remembered from childhood, but not by much.
Blood covered the side of his face and stained the collar of his clothes. Yet there was no panic in his expression.
He looked almost relieved.
"You’re real."
The man smiled.
"That’s usually how reunions work."
Denzel’s fingers tightened around the dagger.
There it was.
That tone.
That irritating calmness.
Something about it felt familiar enough to hurt.
"You knew I’d come."
"I hoped you would."
"That’s not what I asked."
His father studied him.
"You haven’t changed much."
Denzel almost laughed.
"I’ve changed enough that I don’t remember you."
The smile disappeared.
For the first time, something like guilt crossed the man’s face.
Denzel caught it.
Good.
At least one person in this place knew they owed him answers.
He took a step forward.
"Where’s my mother?"
His father’s eyes shifted briefly toward the seven doors.
Denzel noticed.
"She’s here?"
"Not exactly."
"That’s becoming everyone’s favorite answer."
His father gave a quiet breath of amusement.
"You still use humor when you’re angry."
"And you still avoid questions."
"I deserve that."
"Yes."
The answer came so quickly that his father actually blinked.
Denzel lowered the dagger slightly.
"Start talking."
His father looked at the doors behind him.
"The seven gates were never meant to open."
Denzel followed his gaze.
The doors were enormous, each one made from a different material. One appeared to be carved from white stone. Another was black enough to swallow the light around it. The third seemed covered in frost. The fourth had veins of red running across its surface.
The others were impossible to make out through the darkness.
"What are they?"
"Prisons."
Denzel’s eyes narrowed.
"What’s inside?"
His father didn’t answer immediately.
That was enough to make Denzel’s grip tighten again.
"You’re doing it."
"Doing what?"
"Looking at something instead of answering me."
His father smiled faintly.
"You really are my son."
"I don’t know whether to be offended."
"You should be."
The floor trembled.
One of the seven doors opened another inch.
A low sound rolled through the darkness.
Denzel looked back.
"How long do we have?"
"Not long."
"Until what?"
"Until they realize you’re here."
"Who?"
His father stepped closer.
"The things your family spent generations keeping asleep."
Denzel’s stomach tightened.
He remembered the eye.
The voice.
Father.
His own face reflected in that silver iris.
"What was that thing?"
His father stopped.
"You heard it."
"It called me father."
"I know."
"Why?"
His father’s expression hardened.
"Because it remembers you."
Denzel stared at him.
"That doesn’t answer anything."
"It answers more than you think."
Another tremor shook the chamber.
Dust drifted from somewhere above.
His father looked toward the ceiling.
"They’ve started the restoration."
Denzel glanced at the system.
[Royal Memory Restoration: 18%.]
The number had increased.
He hadn’t noticed.
"How do I stop it?"
"You don’t."
Denzel’s eyebrows rose.
"Excuse me?"
"You let it finish."
"That’s your advice?"
"It’s not advice. It’s the only way you’ll understand what happened."
Denzel took another step.
"And if I don’t like what I remember?"
"You won’t."
That answer was so immediate that Denzel stopped.
His father looked directly at him.
"That’s why your mother erased it."
Silence.
Denzel’s jaw tightened.
"You said the royal bloodline erased my memories."
"I did."
"Was it her?"
His father looked away.
"Partly."
"Partly?"
"The others believed you were too dangerous to remember what you were."
Denzel’s expression changed.
"What I was?"
His father nodded.
"You weren’t sent away because they hated you."
"Then why?"
"Because they were afraid of you."
Denzel stared at him.
He wanted to reject it.
The easiest thing would have been to laugh.
Except the system was still counting upward.
[Royal Memory Restoration: 23%.]
His head suddenly throbbed.
A flash.
A woman kneeling beside him.
Dark hair.
Tears running down her face.
Her hands were wrapped around his smaller body.
"Don’t open your eyes."
Another flash.
His father’s voice.
"He’s awake."
Then another.
A crown.
Black.
Resting on a child’s head.
Denzel staggered.
His father caught his shoulder.
Denzel immediately shoved him away.
"Don’t touch me."
His father stopped.
Denzel pressed a hand against his temple.
"What was that?"
"Your mother."
"You said she was imprisoned."
"She was."
"Where?"
His father hesitated.
"Inside the first seal."
Denzel looked at him.
"No."
"She chose it."
"Why?"
"To keep something else from getting out."
Denzel’s breathing slowed.
The pieces refused to fit.
His mother hadn’t abandoned him.
She had hidden him.
She had imprisoned herself.
And apparently, she’d done it to protect everyone from something connected to him.
"Then why was I sent away?"
"Because you were the key."
Denzel looked at the seven doors.
"A key to what?"
His father didn’t answer.
The second door groaned.
Something struck the other side.
Once.
Twice.
The entire darkness seemed to recoil.
Denzel looked toward it.
"What happens if they all open?"
His father said quietly,
"The world ends."
Denzel stared at him.
"That’s a little dramatic."
"I’m serious."
"I know."
For once, there was no humor in Denzel’s voice.
His father looked at him carefully.
"You need to leave."
Denzel frowned.
"Leave where?"
"Anywhere. Just get away from the gates."
"And you?"
"I’m staying."
"No."
His father looked surprised.
Denzel stepped closer.
"I’ve spent years being told half-truths by people who apparently decided I was better off not knowing my own life."
His eyes hardened.
"I’m done leaving."
His father stared at him.
"You don’t understand."
"Then explain it."
"You can’t control what you’ll become."
Denzel smiled without humor.
"Neither could anyone else, apparently."
His father flinched.
The system chimed.
[Royal Memory Restoration: 31%.]
Another memory slammed into him.
A battlefield.
Hundreds of bodies.
Seven kings kneeling.
His own hand raised.
A black crown floating above him.
His father standing behind him.
His mother screaming.
"Stop him!"
Denzel gasped.
The memory vanished.
His father was staring at him.
"You saw it."
Denzel swallowed.
"I killed them."
"No."
"I saw the bodies."
"You didn’t kill them."
"Then who did?"
His father’s silence answered before his mouth did.
Denzel’s expression darkened.
"You."
His father looked down.
"I tried to stop you."
"And failed?"
"Yes."
Denzel laughed once.
There was nothing funny about it.
"So I was the monster."
"No."
His father stepped closer.
"You were a child."
Denzel went still.
"A child?"
"You weren’t the one controlling the Crown."
"What Crown?"
His father pointed toward Denzel’s chest.
"The one inside you."
Denzel looked down.
Nothing.
No crown.
No light.
Just his clothes and the dagger at his side.
Then his skin began to glow.
A thin black line appeared beneath his collarbone.
It spread across his chest in the shape of seven circles.
Denzel’s eyes widened.
[Royal Memory Restoration: 40%.]
[Bloodline Synchronization detected.]
[Royal Authority awakening.]
His father took a step backward.
"Don’t resist it."
Denzel looked up.
"Why?"
"Because resisting is what caused the first collapse."
The words barely left his mouth before the darkness erupted.
The first of the seven doors opened.
A wave of freezing air tore through the chamber.
Denzel raised an arm to shield his face.
Something moved beyond the doorway.
Not a person.
Not an animal.
Something enormous.
His father’s expression changed.
"They found you."
"Who?"
The thing behind the door roared.
The sound shook the darkness.
His father reached for a weapon at his side.
Denzel looked at him.
"You brought a weapon?"
"I was expecting a difficult conversation."
"That’s one way to describe this."
The first door opened wider.
Two silver eyes appeared beyond it.
Denzel felt the Crown inside his chest pulse.
Once.
Twice.
The creature stopped.
Then lowered its head.
His father stared.
"No."
Denzel looked between them.
"What?"
The creature spoke.
Its voice was ancient.
"King."
Denzel’s blood ran cold.
His father tightened his grip on his weapon.
The creature continued.
"Welcome home."
Denzel looked at the seven doors.
Then at his father.
Then at the darkness beyond the first gate.
He had spent his entire life thinking he had been abandoned.
Now he was beginning to suspect something much worse.
He hadn’t been abandoned.
He had been hidden.
And whatever his family had been hiding him from had finally found him.
The Crown inside his chest pulsed again.
[Royal Authority: 1%.]
Denzel stared at the notification.
"You’re kidding."
His father looked at him.
"What?"
Denzel slowly raised his dagger.
"I think I’m starting to remember."
The second door opened.
Then the third.
Then the fourth.
One after another, ancient locks shattered in the darkness.
His father’s face went pale.
"That’s impossible."
Denzel looked toward the opening gates.
"What?"
His father whispered,
"The Crown shouldn’t be awakening before the seals."
Denzel’s eyes narrowed.
"Then maybe you should have explained that before you left me alone with seven doors."
His father looked at him.
For the first time since their reunion, he looked genuinely afraid.
"Denzel."
"What?"
"Whatever you remember next..."
The fifth door began to open.
"...don’t believe all of it."
Denzel froze.
His father’s voice came quieter.
"Because some of your memories aren’t yours."
[Royal Memory Restoration: 47%.]
[Warning.]
[Foreign memories detected.]
[Attempting separation...]
The world went white.
And Denzel heard a woman’s voice.
His mother’s voice.
Only this time, she wasn’t crying.
She was laughing.
"You really thought I’d let them erase you?"
Denzel’s eyes widened.
Then another voice answered.
His own.
Older.
Colder.
"Mother, open the gate."
The memory shattered.
Denzel fell to one knee.
His father caught him before he hit the ground.
"Denzel!"
Denzel looked up.
His father’s face blurred.
Behind him, all seven doors were now open.
And something was walking through the darkness.
Something wearing a crown.
His crown.
[Royal Memory Restoration: 50%.]
[Entity approaching.]
[Designation: Unknown.]
[Threat Level: Unmeasurable.]
Denzel stared into the darkness.
The figure stopped.
Then raised its head.
It had his face.
And it smiled.
"You’re late."