the last sovereign of infinity

There were, Lucien had decided, limits to how much absurdity a person should be expected to tolerate in a single lifetime.

Unfortunately, he no longer appeared to possess only a single lifetime.

This complicated matters considerably.

He stood in the center of a ruined city that remembered his name, surrounded by ancient dragons, immortal companions, and a city-sized entity that had apparently spent the last twelve thousand years preserving his memories.

And now there was another version of himself standing at the end of the golden road.

Naturally.

The stranger continued smiling.

It was unsettling.

Not because Lucien's face was inherently unsettling—though he supposed opinions on that matter would vary—but because the smile carried an impossible amount of familiarity.

It was the expression of someone who had seen the end of a story and found it disappointing.

The black sword resting across his shoulder was equally concerning.

Lucien couldn't explain why.

He simply knew.

Every instinct within him reacted the moment he looked at it.

The Dragon Bloodline stirred.

The black door within the Infinite Mindscape trembled.

And somewhere deep inside his soul, something whispered:

«Run.»

Interesting.

That was the first intelligent suggestion his instincts had offered all day.

The stranger took another step forward.

"You're shorter than I expected."

Lucien considered the statement.

"You're significantly more irritating than I expected."

The older version of himself laughed.

"Good. That means we're still us."

The laugh sent a chill down Lucien's spine.

Not because it was cruel.

Because it wasn't.

There was warmth in it.

Familiarity.

The kind one reserved for old friends.

Or mirrors.

The Last Witness had not moved.

The old man remained frozen before the black door, staring at the newcomer with an expression Lucien had never seen before.

Fear.

Not caution.

Not concern.

Fear.

"Master."

No response.

"Master."

The old man finally spoke.

"That sword should not exist."

Lucien looked toward the weapon.

It was enormous.

Its blade was black from hilt to tip, appearing less forged than carved from a piece of the night sky itself. Strange symbols ran along its surface, shifting whenever one attempted to focus on them.

"What's wrong with the sword?"

Orion answered.

"Everything."

The simplicity of the response was not reassuring.

The older Lucien rested the sword against one shoulder.

"Oh, don't be dramatic."

"It ate a constellation."

"It was hungry."

Silence.

Aiden blinked.

"I'm sorry. It did what?"

"Only a small constellation," the stranger clarified. "And in my defense, it started the argument."

Lucien slowly turned toward Orion.

"Is he joking?"

"No."

"Wonderful."

The stranger's smile widened.

"I forgot how much I missed saying that."

"You are not helping."

"I rarely do."

That...

Was deeply concerning.

Because it sounded exactly like something Lucien would say.

The Dragon King finally moved.

The ancient dragon lowered his massive head until one golden eye was level with the stranger.

"You are dead."

The older Lucien shrugged.

"I've heard that before."

"I killed you myself."

"Technically, several people did."

The Dragon King's expression did not change.

"You remained dead."

"Briefly."

"Seven thousand years is not brief."

The stranger considered this.

"Subjective."

The Dragon King looked genuinely offended.

Lucien was beginning to understand why his previous selves had apparently been difficult to tolerate.

The stranger's gaze eventually settled upon Seraphina.

His smile softened immediately.

"Hello, little clock."

Seraphina stopped breathing.

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

He laughed quietly.

"I've missed that response."

"You aren't real."

"That's hurtful."

"You died."

"So did you."

"I got better."

"Clearly."

Silence.

The city bells rang once.

Then twice.

The stranger's expression became distant.

"Still using my techniques, I see."

"They're not yours."

"Oh?"

His smile returned.

"Then whose are they?"

Seraphina didn't answer.

Lucien noticed.

So did the stranger.

Dangerous, he thought.

This entire conversation was dangerous.

Eternity's eye narrowed.

"I DO NOT REMEMBER YOU."

The older Lucien looked up.

"Of course you don't."

"WHY?"

"Because I was never here."

Silence.

That captured everyone's attention.

"What does that mean?" Lucien asked.

The stranger looked toward him.

"It means exactly what it sounds like."

"Helpful."

"I try."

"No, you don't."

"Fair."

The older Lucien rested the black sword against the ground.

The city shook.

"I suppose introductions are in order."

Lucien suddenly had a very bad feeling about this.

"My name is Lucien."

"Impossible."

"I know. It surprised me too."

"No."

Lucien pointed at himself.

"I'm Lucien."

"Currently."

The distinction was subtle.

And deeply unpleasant.

"What does that mean?"

The stranger's smile disappeared.

"It means I'm not one of your previous lives."

The black door went silent.

Even the voice beyond it stopped whispering.

Lucien noticed immediately.

That was new.

"If you're not one of my previous lives..."

"Then who are you?"

"Yes."

The stranger met his gaze.

For the first time since arriving, there was no humor in his expression.

"I'm your next one."

Silence.

Absolute silence.

Aiden sat down.

Not gracefully.

He simply sat on the nearest piece of rubble and stared into the distance.

"I've decided I hate this family."

No one disagreed.

Lucien remained perfectly still.

"My...next life."

"That's right."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"It rarely does."

"No. Explain."

The stranger sighed.

"You really don't remember anything."

"No."

"That's probably for the best."

Lucien's patience was beginning to wear thin.

"Explain."

The older version of himself was quiet for several moments.

Then—

"You're going to die."

The words settled over the city like falling ash.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Not today."

"Comforting."

"Probably not tomorrow either."

"Remarkably reassuring."

"But eventually?" The stranger's smile returned, though there was sadness hidden beneath it. "Yes."

Lucien stared at him.

"And you're me after that."

"Something like that."

"That is impossible."

The older Lucien pointed toward the dragons.

"So is that."

Then toward Eternity.

"And that."

Then toward Orion.

"Especially him."

"Rude," Orion muttered.

The stranger ignored him.

"The point is, Lucien, reality stopped following the rules where we're concerned a very long time ago."

The black sword hummed.

Lucien heard it.

No.

Not heard.

Recognized.

The sound of steel leaving its sheath.

The smell of rain on stone.

A battlefield beneath a dying sky.

His hand unconsciously moved toward his chest.

"That sword."

The stranger's expression changed.

"What about it?"

"I know it."

For the first time, the older Lucien appeared genuinely surprised.

"Interesting."

"What is it?"

Silence.

Then—

"The last thing you ever made."

The black door shook violently.

A fourth chain snapped.

The sound echoed across the Infinite Mindscape like thunder.

The Last Witness turned sharply.

"No."

The stranger looked toward the sky.

"Ah."

Lucien did not like that sound.

"Ah?"

"It seems we're running out of time."

"Time for what?"

The older Lucien's golden eyes met his own.

"To prepare you."

The world suddenly grew cold.

The stars above the ruined city began disappearing one by one.

Not hidden.

Gone.

The Dragon King spread his wings.

Eternity's eye widened.

Even Orion stopped smiling.

Lucien looked upward.

Something was descending.

Not an Architect.

Not a dragon.

Something else.

Something larger.

The older Lucien slowly picked up the black sword.

"Oh."

His expression became deeply annoyed.

"What?"

He sighed.

"Apparently, I followed me."

Silence.

Lucien felt a headache forming.

"I'm sorry?"

The older Lucien pointed toward the sky.

"That."

A crack appeared in reality.

Then another.

And another.

The heavens split open.

A hand emerged from the darkness beyond.

Not the hand of an Architect.

This one was different.

Larger.

Covered in black scales.

And wrapped around a broken crown.

The older Lucien closed his eyes.

"I really hoped it wouldn't find us this quickly."

Lucien stared.

"What is that?"

The older version of himself was silent for several moments.

Then, very quietly—

"My greatest mistake."

The hand opened.

And the universe remembered how to be afraid.