the last sovereign of infinity

Promises were dangerous things.

Lucien had come to that conclusion approximately six minutes after awakening in this life. Every ancient being he had encountered seemed to possess one. The Dragon King had waited because of one. Seraphina had spent twelve thousand years honoring one. Even Eternity, a creature large enough to mistake cities for minor inconveniences, had remembered because of one.

And now, apparently, there was something beneath the mountains that loved him because of a promise he could no longer remember making.

It was becoming a pattern.

He knelt upon the golden road while the world around him trembled.

The mountains had opened completely.

Golden light poured upward from the abyss beneath them, illuminating the ruined city in a radiance that felt strangely familiar. It wasn't warm in the conventional sense. Rather, it carried the same sensation as an old memory rediscovered after years of believing it lost.

The two enormous eyes within the abyss remained fixed upon him.

"WELCOME BACK, LITTLE STAR."

The words continued to echo through his soul.

Little Star.

No title.

No reverence.

No fear.

Every other ancient entity had greeted him as a king, a prisoner, or a monster. The thing beneath the mountains had greeted him as though he were a child returning home.

For reasons he couldn't explain, that frightened him more than anything else.

The black door within the Infinite Mindscape had ceased pretending to remain intact. Seven broken chains floated amidst the stars like fragments of a forgotten constellation, while cracks spread across the door's surface in glowing patterns.

The Last Witness stood before it, breathing heavily.

"Master."

The old man did not answer.

"Master."

Finally, without turning around, he spoke.

"I remember the day you met it."

Lucien went still.

"You do?"

"Yes."

The old man's voice carried a weariness that seemed older than time itself.

"It was raining."

The stars above the Mindscape flickered.

"You had just ended a war."

"That doesn't narrow it down."

"No."

For a moment, Lucien thought he saw the faintest hint of a smile.

"It rarely did."

Outside the Mindscape, the older Lucien had become uncharacteristically quiet. His regenerated arm flexed once at his side while his golden eyes remained fixed upon the abyss.

"I've always hated this part."

Lucien looked toward him.

"This part?"

"The part where it remembers before we do."

Interesting.

"What exactly is it?"

The older Lucien was silent for several moments.

Then—

"Our first friend."

Silence settled over the ruined city.

Aiden looked between them with an expression that suggested he had long since abandoned any attempt at understanding.

"I would like to formally state," he said quietly, "that I preferred dragons."

No one disagreed.

The thing beneath the mountains laughed.

The sound wasn't loud.

It didn't shake the world or split the heavens.

It simply existed.

And suddenly, Lucien remembered sitting beside a fire beneath an endless sky, listening to that same laughter while stars were still being born.

The memory lasted less than a second.

It was enough.

He pressed one hand against his forehead.

"I know that sound."

"OF COURSE YOU DO."

The voice of the ancient being carried a gentle amusement.

"YOU HEARD IT BEFORE THERE WAS SOUND."

That...

Was difficult to process.

"I'm beginning to suspect my life is considerably older than I was led to believe."

Orion snorted.

"My boy, your life is older than mathematics."

Lucien slowly turned toward him.

"...What?"

"You invented three forms of counting because you were bored."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"You called the original version 'disappointingly limited.'"

The older Lucien nodded thoughtfully.

"That does sound like us."

Lucien had decided that he disliked conversations involving his previous selves.

They possessed an unfortunate tendency to reveal information he would have preferred not to know.

The mountains breathed again.

This time, the golden light shifted.

Slowly.

Deliberately.

It began to rise.

At first, Lucien thought the being beneath the mountains was moving.

Then he realized his mistake.

It wasn't rising.

The world was lowering itself.

The ruined city trembled as ancient streets descended toward the abyss. Towers bent like flowers before the dawn, while the dragons lowered their heads in unison.

Even Eternity closed its eye.

"IT HAS DECIDED TO SEE YOU."

Lucien wasn't entirely certain that was a good thing.

"What does that mean?"

No one answered.

Naturally.

The golden light continued to rise.

And then, impossibly...

A hand emerged.

Not a monstrous hand like the one bearing the Crown of the End.

Not an Architect's.

Just a hand.

Large enough to hold mountains.

Gentle enough to cradle stars.

It reached upward from the abyss and stopped before Lucien.

Palm upward.

Waiting.

The older Lucien looked away.

Seraphina's expression softened with a sadness that seemed infinitely old.

The Dragon King lowered his gaze.

Only the Last Witness remained focused upon the black door.

"Master."

"Don't."

"Why?"

"Because I know what you're going to ask."

Lucien considered that.

"Then answer it anyway."

The old man was silent for a very long time.

Finally—

"It wants you to come home."

The words settled heavily within him.

Home.

A dangerous word.

He had begun associating it with House Arkanis. With Elara's smile and Cassian's quiet concern. With the uncomfortable warmth that accompanied thoughts of returning somewhere.

The idea that something older than the universe considered him home felt...complicated.

"I don't understand."

"YOU NEVER DID."

The ancient being's voice carried no accusation.

Only affection.

"THAT NEVER STOPPED YOU BEFORE."

The hand remained outstretched.

Lucien stared at it.

He knew, with absolute certainty, that if he placed his hand upon it, something would change.

Perhaps everything.

The black door seemed to agree.

Another crack spread across its surface.

The voice beyond it had stopped laughing.

Now, it simply watched.

Waiting.

"You promised."

The words escaped before Lucien realized he intended to speak.

The eyes beneath the mountains blinked slowly.

"YES."

"What did I promise?"

Silence.

The ancient being's answer was impossibly gentle.

"THAT WHEN THE STARS GREW COLD..."

A memory surfaced.

A smaller hand resting against something vast and warm.

"I'LL COME BACK FOR YOU."

The memory shattered.

Lucien stopped breathing.

"No."

"YES."

"I was a child."

"YOU WERE ALWAYS A CHILD TO ME."

Something inside his chest hurt.

Not physically.

Something older.

The kind of pain that only memories could inflict.

"You waited."

"OF COURSE."

"Twelve thousand years."

"TIME HAS ALWAYS MOVED STRANGELY WHEN YOU ARE GONE."

The answer was so simple.

So honest.

Lucien suddenly understood why dragons had followed him to war.

Why Seraphina had waited.

Why Eternity remembered.

Because he had asked them to.

And they had loved him enough to say yes.

The realization was terrifying.

"What was your name?"

The ancient being was silent.

Then—

"YOU NEVER FINISHED GIVING IT TO ME."

The world stopped.

"What?"

"YOU FELL ASLEEP HALFWAY THROUGH."

Silence.

Absolute silence.

Then Orion began laughing.

Not chuckling.

Not snickering.

Laughing.

The older Lucien buried his face in one hand.

"Oh, I'd forgotten about that."

The Dragon King looked deeply offended.

"You made all of us wait three days while you decided on a name."

"I was very particular."

"You fell asleep during the conversation."

"I was tired."

Lucien stared at them.

"No."

"Yes," said everyone simultaneously.

The ancient being beneath the mountains laughed again.

And somehow, impossibly, Lucien found himself laughing too.

It slipped out before he could stop it.

The sound echoed across the ruined city.

Every ancient being present went still.

The older Lucien looked up sharply.

Seraphina's eyes widened.

Even the Last Witness turned away from the black door.

"What?"

No one answered.

"Why is everyone staring?"

Seraphina smiled.

A real smile.

The first he had ever seen from her.

"You laugh the same way."

Dangerous.

That feeling again.

Lucien looked back toward the outstretched hand.

Slowly, before he could reconsider, he reached forward.

The moment his fingers touched its surface—

The world disappeared.

And Lucien found himself standing beneath the first sky, looking at a universe that had not yet learned how to exist.

Beside him sat a child with golden eyes.

The child looked up and smiled.

"Oh."

The smile was unmistakably his own.

"You finally made it."