the last sovereign of infinity

For the next eleven minutes, nobody spoke.

Lucien had discovered that silence possessed many variations.

There was the silence of contemplation, which he occasionally experienced while reading. There was the silence of grief, which seemed to follow Seraphina whenever she thought no one was watching.

And then there was this.

The silence that followed watching an older version of yourself leap into the sky and physically assault an eldritch entity with a sword that apparently violated several fundamental laws of existence.

It was, admittedly, a very specific kind of silence.

Aiden was the first to recover.

"I've reached a decision."

No one responded.

"I am no longer surprised by anything."

"An admirable goal," Orion said.

"It isn't a goal. It's a survival mechanism."

Reasonable.

Lucien continued staring at the empty sky.

His older self had yet to return.

This should have concerned him more than it did.

Instead, he found himself distracted by another problem.

The crown.

He remembered hating it.

Not disliking.

Not fearing.

Hating.

The emotion had been immediate and instinctive, surfacing from somewhere far older than his current life.

That alone was troubling.

The black door within the Infinite Mindscape had not stopped shaking since the crown appeared. Five chains now lay broken across the stone floor, while the remaining links strained under an invisible pressure.

The golden eye beyond the narrow opening remained fixed upon him.

Watching.

Waiting.

"Master."

The Last Witness stood motionless before the door.

"Yes?"

"What was the Crown of the End?"

The old man closed his eyes.

"I was hoping you wouldn't ask."

"That seems to be a recurring theme."

"With good reason."

Lucien waited.

After several moments, the Last Witness sighed.

"There are many powers in existence, Lucien."

"So I've noticed."

"Most are inherited. Others are earned."

The old man's gaze drifted toward the stars.

"And a very small number are created."

Lucien frowned.

"The crown."

"Yes."

"How?"

Silence.

Then—

"You were lonely."

That was not the answer Lucien had expected.

"I'm sorry?"

"Lonely."

The Last Witness's expression became distant.

"It happened after the Seventh War."

"There were seven?"

"There were more."

Naturally.

"You had outlived your enemies. Your friends. Entire civilizations."

The old man's voice remained quiet.

"So you made something that would stay."

Lucien felt an uncomfortable sensation settle in his chest.

"I made a crown because I was lonely."

"You made a companion."

That...

Was significantly worse.

"What exactly does this companion do?"

The Last Witness was silent for a very long time.

Finally, he answered.

"It ends things."

Of course it did.

Lucien should have expected that.

Outside the Mindscape, Eternity's enormous eye continued observing the sky.

"HE ALWAYS DID HAVE TERRIBLE COPING MECHANISMS."

Lucien looked up.

"You remember the crown."

"I REMEMBER EVERYTHING."

"And?"

The city-sized entity was quiet for several moments.

"IT LOVED YOU."

Silence.

"I'm sorry?"

"THE CROWN."

No.

Absolutely not.

Lucien refused.

"The crown is alive."

"YES."

"No."

"YES."

"No."

The Dragon King lowered his head.

"It was."

Lucien turned slowly toward the ancient dragon.

"You knew."

"We all did."

"Wonderful."

"It used to follow you everywhere."

Naturally.

"Of course it did."

The Dragon King seemed almost amused.

"It was jealous."

Lucien stopped breathing.

"What?"

"It once attempted to destroy a moon because you spent too much time looking at it."

Silence.

Aiden stared blankly into the distance.

"I preferred my life when accounting books were my greatest concern."

No one disagreed.

Seraphina had grown unusually quiet.

Lucien noticed immediately.

"You've stopped speaking."

"I am thinking."

"Dangerous."

"Agreed."

Her silver eyes remained fixed on the heavens.

"You never wore the crown around me."

That caught everyone's attention.

"What?"

She hesitated.

"You said it made you...different."

The black door suddenly fell silent.

Even the voice beyond it stopped whispering.

Lucien noticed.

"What do you mean by different?"

Seraphina didn't answer immediately.

Instead, she looked directly at him.

"It made you happy."

The words settled heavily over the ruined city.

Lucien frowned.

"That seems harmless."

"No."

There was something deeply unsettling in her expression now.

"It wasn't your happiness."

Silence.

"The crown loved you," she continued quietly. "And eventually, you began loving it back."

Lucien stared at her.

"That's absurd."

"Yes."

"Objects don't love people."

"Neither do concepts."

That...

Was difficult to argue with.

"The day you stopped wearing it," Seraphina said, "was the first time I'd seen you cry."

Lucien felt the Dragon Bloodline stir uneasily.

"I cried?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

She looked away.

"Because you had to kill it."

The world went silent.

Even Eternity's eye widened.

"What?"

The Last Witness lowered his head.

"Ah."

Lucien immediately disliked that sound.

"Ah?"

"I was hoping she wouldn't mention that."

The black door trembled.

Something beyond it laughed softly.

"You should tell him how long he carried the pieces."

No one spoke.

Lucien's patience finally gave out.

"Enough."

Golden light erupted around him.

The city shook.

The dragons fell silent.

"I am becoming increasingly frustrated with everyone knowing details about my life that I do not."

Reasonable.

"I would appreciate honesty."

The Last Witness looked tired.

"You carried the broken pieces of the crown for three thousand years."

Lucien went still.

"...Why?"

"Because it asked you to."

Silence.

"The last thing it ever said was..." The old man's voice grew quieter. "'If I must end, let me remain beside you a little longer.'"

Something inside Lucien's chest hurt.

He didn't understand why.

And that frightened him more than anything else.

Before he could speak, reality cracked.

Again.

Everyone looked up.

A fracture had appeared in the sky.

Smaller than before.

Familiar.

A hand reached through.

Lucien's heartbeat immediately quickened.

The black-scaled hand?

No.

This hand was human.

It gave them a thumbs up.

"...What?" Aiden asked.

The older Lucien's voice echoed through the fracture.

"I won."

Silence.

Then—

"Excellent!" Orion shouted.

"How?" Lucien demanded.

"I hit it very hard!"

"That's not an explanation!"

"It worked, didn't it?"

Fair.

The hand disappeared.

A moment later, the older Lucien stepped through the fracture and landed lightly on the ruined street.

His coat was torn.

His left arm was missing.

And he appeared deeply annoyed.

"Well."

Lucien stared.

"You're missing an arm."

"Temporary inconvenience."

"That seems significant."

"It'll grow back."

"WHAT?"

The older Lucien blinked.

"Oh."

He looked down.

"Right. You haven't unlocked that bloodline yet."

Lucien slowly closed his eyes.

"Of course I haven't."

The older version of himself walked past him and sat on a piece of rubble.

"I hate Architects."

"You said that wasn't an Architect."

"It wasn't."

"Then what was it?"

Silence.

The older Lucien looked toward the sky.

"His pet."

No one spoke.

"His?"

"Yes."

Lucien had a sudden, terrible realization.

"There are things larger than the Architects."

The older Lucien laughed.

"Oh, Lucien."

For the first time, there was genuine pity in his expression.

"You still think the Architects are the villains."

The words sent a chill through the ruined city.

"What do you mean?"

The older Lucien looked directly at him.

"The Architects didn't build the prison."

Silence.

"They inherited it."

The black door shook violently.

A sixth chain cracked.

The stars above the Infinite Mindscape began to disappear.

And somewhere beyond the remaining darkness, something vast opened its eyes.

The older Lucien's expression became grim.

"Ah."

Lucien was beginning to despise that word.

"What now?"

His older self slowly looked toward the western horizon.

"I believe..."

For the first time since his arrival, he sounded uncertain.

"...it knows we're talking about it."

The mountains trembled.

And something beneath them answered.