Chapter 201: Time
The Crown shattered.
Denzel expected pain.
Instead, there was silence.
Every fragment stopped in the air around him.
Seven pieces.
Seven points.
Seven pieces of something that had existed before he had ever known his own name.
The older man stared.
He didn’t breathe.
Denzel slowly lowered his hand.
"What just happened?"
The man didn’t answer.
One of the fragments drifted toward Denzel.
Then another.
Then all seven.
They entered his chest without resistance.
Denzel’s eyes widened.
The world disappeared.
He was standing somewhere else.
Not the facility.
Not the ruined chamber.
Not even a place he recognized.
A vast white room stretched endlessly in every direction.
There were no walls.
No ceiling.
No floor.
Just white.
Denzel looked down.
His feet were touching something solid.
He couldn’t see it.
"Where am I?"
His voice echoed.
Then another voice answered.
"Before."
Denzel turned.
A child stood several meters away.
He looked about six years old.
Black hair.
Pale skin.
Bare feet.
His clothes were torn.
There was blood on his cheek.
Denzel stared at him.
He knew that face.
His own.
The child stared back.
"You finally came."
Denzel’s expression tightened.
"Who are you?"
The child smiled.
"You."
"That’s becoming annoying."
"You’ve said that before."
Denzel stepped closer.
"When?"
The child’s smile disappeared.
"Every time they showed you something you weren’t supposed to remember."
Denzel stopped.
"The memories."
"Not memories."
The child looked around.
"Copies."
"Copies of what?"
"Us."
Denzel frowned.
The child pointed behind him.
Seven figures stood in the distance.
Each one looked different.
But Denzel could feel something familiar in all of them.
The first was furious.
The second was afraid.
The third was smiling.
The fourth was crying.
The fifth was completely expressionless.
The sixth was staring at Denzel.
The seventh had no face.
Denzel’s eyes narrowed.
"Those are the seven."
The child nodded.
"The pieces."
"Of me."
"Of what was left."
Denzel looked toward the faceless figure.
"And that one?"
The child didn’t answer.
Denzel stared at it.
Something about the figure made his skin crawl.
It felt familiar.
More familiar than the others.
The faceless figure slowly raised one hand.
The white room darkened.
Denzel’s breath caught.
A voice came from the figure.
"You shouldn’t have opened the Crown."
Denzel looked at the child.
"Who is that?"
The child whispered.
"The part they were afraid of."
The faceless figure moved.
One step.
The entire room shook.
Denzel instinctively raised his hand.
Nothing happened.
He looked at his palm.
No Crown.
No Royal Authority.
Nothing.
The figure took another step.
Denzel backed away.
"What did you do?"
The figure tilted its head.
"I removed the lie."
"What lie?"
"That you were ever separate from me."
Denzel’s expression hardened.
"Then what are you?"
The figure stopped.
For the first time, its face appeared.
It was Denzel.
Older.
Much older.
His hair was longer.
His eyes were completely black.
Thin cracks ran across his skin.
Denzel stared.
The older version smiled.
"I am what happens when you stop pretending to be human."
Denzel’s jaw tightened.
"I don’t like you."
"I know."
"You sound very confident."
"I remember everything."
Denzel looked toward the seven figures.
"And they don’t?"
"They remember enough to keep you alive."
The older version pointed at the six figures.
"They were created as restraints."
Denzel looked at the seventh.
"And that one?"
The older version didn’t answer.
Denzel’s gaze returned to him.
"You."
The older version smiled.
"Good."
Denzel felt something shift beneath his ribs.
A heartbeat.
Then another.
The white room cracked.
Images appeared through the fractures.
A laboratory.
A woman holding an infant.
A group of men standing around a machine.
The older man from the facility.
Younger.
Terrified.
Denzel watched as the younger man placed a Crown-shaped object against the infant’s forehead.
The infant opened his eyes.
Every light in the laboratory exploded.
People screamed.
The younger man fell backward.
The woman grabbed the child.
Then seven symbols appeared above the infant.
Denzel stared.
"That was me."
"Yes."
"Why?"
The older version looked toward the image.
"Because they found you beneath the first gate."
Denzel’s eyes narrowed.
"I was an infant."
"You were already awake."
The image changed.
The infant’s eyes opened.
For a brief second, something black moved inside them.
Denzel felt a chill.
"What was inside me?"
The older version looked directly at him.
"Nothing."
Denzel frowned.
"That’s not an answer."
"It is."
The older version stepped closer.
"There was never something inside you."
The room became silent.
"You were inside something."
Denzel’s eyes widened slightly.
The image changed again.
The first gate.
The enormous structure beneath the earth.
Seven bloodlines surrounding it.
Seven people kneeling.
The Crown floating above the center.
And Denzel standing in the middle.
But he wasn’t alone.
A gigantic shadow stood behind him.
Not inside him.
Behind him.
Connected to him by seven black threads.
Denzel stared.
"What is that?"
The older version’s voice became quiet.
"The original consciousness."
Denzel looked at him.
"Mine?"
"No."
The word landed heavily.
Denzel’s eyes narrowed.
"Then whose?"
The older version looked toward the shadow.
"Yours."
Denzel’s expression froze.
"That doesn’t make sense."
"It will."
The shadow moved.
Seven black threads pulled tight.
The seven figures around the gate screamed.
The Crown cracked.
Then the image ended.
Denzel stood in silence.
"So they didn’t put something inside me."
"No."
"They separated something from me."
"No."
Denzel’s eyes narrowed.
"Then what did they do?"
The older version answered.
"They separated you from yourself."
The words echoed.
Denzel looked toward the seven figures.
"They turned one consciousness into seven."
"Yes."
"Then what am I?"
The older version smiled.
"The remainder."
Denzel’s face hardened.
"The remainder?"
"The part that couldn’t be divided."
Denzel looked down at his hands.
"I don’t feel like a remainder."
"You shouldn’t."
"Then what am I?"
The older version walked past him.
"You’re the original."
Denzel turned.
"Then why don’t I remember?"
"Because the original was too dangerous to remember itself."
Denzel’s eyes narrowed.
"That sounds convenient."
"It was."
The white room began collapsing.
The seven figures disappeared.
The child disappeared.
Only Denzel and the older version remained.
Denzel looked around.
"What happens when this place disappears?"
"You wake up."
"Where?"
"Inside the Crown."
Denzel frowned.
"The Crown shattered."
"No."
The older version smiled.
"The Crown died."
Denzel’s eyes narrowed.
"What’s the difference?"
"The Crown was never the weapon."
A crack appeared beneath them.
"It was the cage."
Denzel stared at him.
"And now?"
"Now there is nothing between you and what was sealed."
The floor disappeared.
Denzel fell.
He reached for something.
Nothing.
The older version remained standing above him.
Denzel shouted.
"Wait!"
The older version looked down.
"One question."
"What?"
"Why did the thing in the facility call me its vessel?"
The older version smiled.
"Because it was lying."
Denzel’s stomach tightened.
"Why?"
"Because it needed you to believe you were carrying it."
Denzel understood.
It wasn’t inside him.
It had been using the Crown to convince him that it was.
The older version’s voice faded.
"It was afraid of you."
Denzel fell into darkness.
Then—
his eyes opened.
He was back in the facility.
The older man stood several meters away.
The ruined chamber was completely silent.
The creature was gone.
The Crown was gone.
Only black dust remained where it had shattered.
Denzel slowly stood.
The older man stared at him.
"What happened?"
Denzel looked at his hands.
Then at the man.
"You lied to me."
The older man’s face tightened.
"About what?"
"You said the Crown chose me."
Silence.
"You said I was the vessel."
The man looked away.
Denzel stepped closer.
"You knew."
"I suspected."
"You knew."
The man closed his eyes.
"I knew enough."
Denzel stopped in front of him.
"Then tell me the truth."
The man looked at him.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Finally, the man whispered.
"The Crown wasn’t meant to awaken you."
"Then what was it meant to do?"
"Keep you asleep."
Denzel’s expression hardened.
"And the seven bloodlines?"
"Locks."
"The seven points?"
"Seals."
"The Royal Authority?"
The man swallowed.
"Recognition."
Denzel understood.
"They weren’t recognizing their king."
"No."
"They were recognizing the thing they were created to contain."
The older man nodded.
Denzel looked toward the ceiling.
Thousands of Royal Bloodlines were still connected to him.
He could feel them.
Their fear.
Their confusion.
Their prayers.
Their hatred.
Their loyalty.
All of it.
And beneath those countless minds—
something else.
A presence.
Not outside him.
Not behind him.
Somewhere deeper.
Denzel closed his eyes.
For the first time, he could feel it clearly.
His own consciousness.
Not the fragments.
Not the seven pieces.
Something beneath all of them.
Something enormous.
Something ancient.
Something that had been awake long before Denzel had ever opened his eyes.
He whispered.
"So that’s why."
The older man looked at him.
"Why what?"
Denzel opened his eyes.
"The Crown didn’t choose me."
The man remained silent.
Denzel smiled faintly.
"I was the reason it existed."
The facility shook.
A distant sound echoed from beneath them.
One heartbeat.
Then another.
The older man’s face went pale.
Denzel looked toward the floor.
The sound grew louder.
Boom.
Boom.
Boom.
Something was waking beneath the facility.
But Denzel wasn’t afraid anymore.
He could feel it.
He could feel exactly where it was.
And more importantly—
it could feel him.
The older man whispered.
"Denzel."
Denzel looked at him.
"Yes?"
"Whatever you do..."
The floor cracked.
"...don’t answer it."
Denzel’s smile disappeared.
A voice rose from beneath the earth.
His voice.
Not similar.
Not familiar.
Exactly his.
"Denzel."
He looked down.
The crack widened.
"Denzel."
His eyes narrowed.
The voice whispered one final sentence.
"Come home."
Denzel stood completely still.
Then he took one step toward the crack.
The older man grabbed his arm.
Denzel looked down at the hand.
Then back at him.
"You told me the truth too late."
The man released him.
Denzel stepped forward.
The darkness beneath the facility opened.
And for the first time—
Denzel smiled at something that sounded exactly like himself.