the last sovereign of infinity

Lucien awoke to the sound of something knocking on reality.

At first, he thought it was a dream.

That would have been considerably more convenient.

The sensation was oddly familiar. It reminded him of rain against a window, if the rain happened to consist of ancient entities attempting to force their way into existence.

His eyes opened slowly.

The ruined city remained.

The western mountains still stood parted beneath the endless glow of Sol's light. The dragons remained gathered around the golden road, while the older versions of himself had not moved from where he had last seen them.

Interesting.

Apparently, existential revelations did not exempt one from ongoing catastrophes.

Lucien sat upright.

His head hurt.

That, at least, felt normal.

"You're awake."

Seraphina stood nearby, her silver eyes fixed upon the heavens.

"Unfortunately."

"You were unconscious for three days."

Lucien paused.

"That seems excessive."

"You're one to talk."

Fair.

He slowly rose to his feet and immediately noticed three things.

First, the black door was gone.

Not hidden.

Not sealed.

Gone.

In its place stood the small room with the window overlooking the stars, now permanently connected to the Infinite Mindscape.

Second, Astrael was asleep in one of the chairs.

And third—

The sky was broken.

Lucien stared upward.

"Oh."

"There it is again," Seraphina said.

The heavens above the ruined city had split open.

Not in one place.

Thousands.

Cracks stretched from horizon to horizon, revealing glimpses of an endless darkness beyond. Entire constellations flickered uncertainly, while reality itself appeared to be struggling under some invisible pressure.

That seemed problematic.

"What happened?"

"The Architects happened."

"Of course."

Naturally.

Lucien had begun to suspect that approximately eighty percent of his problems could be traced directly to immortal beings with poor decision-making skills.

The remaining twenty percent appeared to be his own fault.

"The moment you remembered Astrael's name," Seraphina continued, "they knew."

"Knew what?"

She looked at him.

"That you finally remembered why they were afraid."

Dangerous.

That sentence carried implications.

Lucien decided to ignore them temporarily.

"How many?"

"Architects?"

"Yes."

Seraphina was silent for a moment.

"All of them."

Silence.

"I'm sorry?"

"The entire Court of Architects is currently attempting to enter reality."

Lucien considered this.

"That seems excessive."

"It is."

"Do they always overreact?"

"No."

"Oh."

"There it is again."

He was beginning to suspect that phrase would follow him across every lifetime.

The Dragon King landed beside them with enough force to crack the ancient stone beneath his claws.

"They are afraid."

Lucien looked toward the ancient dragon.

"I've been informed."

"They should be."

Interesting.

The Dragon King's tone had changed.

There was no reverence in it.

No caution.

Only certainty.

Lucien filed that observation away for later.

Orion appeared beside them, carrying two cups of tea for reasons Lucien refused to question.

"You've caused quite a stir."

"I seem to do that frequently."

"Only when awake."

"Comforting."

The old immortal handed him a cup.

Lucien accepted it automatically.

Then paused.

"Where did you get tea?"

Orion smiled.

"The room."

Of course.

Naturally.

Apparently, he had built an eternal sanctuary at the center of his soul and stocked it appropriately.

That felt in character.

A sound echoed across the mountains.

Knock.

Lucien froze.

It wasn't loud.

If anything, it was almost polite.

Knock.

The sky cracked further.

Knock.

Entire sections of reality trembled.

"Are they..."

"Knocking?" Orion supplied helpfully.

"Yes."

"Yes."

"That seems strangely courteous."

"The Architects have excellent manners."

"Why?"

"They're ancient."

Fair.

Lucien took a sip of tea.

It was excellent.

This somehow irritated him.

"Master."

The Last Witness appeared beside him.

"Yes?"

"Should we be concerned?"

The old man stared at him for several seconds.

"Lucien."

"What?"

"The sky is currently attempting to resign."

"Reasonable."

"No, not reasonable."

"Fair."

The knocking continued.

Each impact caused the stars to flicker.

Lucien noticed something else.

The ruined city was changing.

The broken towers were slowly rebuilding themselves. Ancient streets straightened. Cracked statues restored their missing pieces.

The city was remembering.

Interesting.

"It knows you're awake," Sol said softly from beneath the mountains.

Lucien looked toward the golden abyss.

"The city?"

"Yes."

"And?"

"It missed you."

Dangerous.

Everything missed him.

He was developing complex feelings regarding this pattern.

The older Lucien with the black sword finally stood.

"Well."

Lucien immediately disliked that word.

"What?"

"It's time."

"For?"

The older version of himself pointed toward the sky.

"The first Architect is getting impatient."

As if summoned by the words, one of the cracks widened.

Reality split apart.

And something stepped through.

Lucien had expected another eye.

Or perhaps a hand.

Instead, he found himself looking at a man.

Tall.

Dressed in white robes.

Silver hair.

Blue eyes.

Entirely ordinary.

Interesting.

That was considerably more concerning.

The man stepped onto the broken sky itself and looked down upon the ruined city.

His gaze immediately found Lucien.

Silence followed.

Then—

"Oh."

Lucien blinked.

"I'm sorry?"

The Architect smiled faintly.

"There it is."

"What?"

"The expression."

Lucien felt a headache forming.

"You know me."

"I should hope so."

The Architect folded his hands behind his back.

"We've been arguing for approximately fourteen billion years."

Silence.

"That seems excessive."

"It was."

The Architect sighed.

"You still look tired."

"I've been informed of this."

"And shorter."

"Everyone keeps mentioning that."

The Architect nodded sympathetically.

"It happened to me once."

Lucien stopped breathing.

"What?"

"Oh, yes. Terrible experience."

Orion quietly buried his face in his hands.

"Please don't encourage him."

The Architect ignored him.

"The important thing is that you're awake."

Lucien stared upward.

"You are significantly more conversational than I expected."

"Thank you."

"It wasn't a compliment."

"I know."

Interesting.

This was becoming a recurring problem.

"What exactly are Architects?"

The man considered the question.

"Depends."

"On?"

"Who's asking."

"I am."

"Ah."

There it was again.

Lucien was beginning to suspect that "ah" was some kind of cosmic conspiracy.

"In that case, we're your jailers."

Silence.

"Oh."

"There it is."

Lucien ignored him.

"I'm sorry?"

"You heard me."

"No, I understood the words. It's the implications I object to."

"Reasonable."

The Architect's smile faded.

"We've been guarding the prison since the beginning."

"And?"

"And you've spent every lifetime trying to open it."

The mountains stopped breathing.

The dragons lowered their heads.

Even Sol grew quiet.

Lucien remained perfectly still.

"I see."

"No, you don't."

"Fair."

The Architect looked toward the western horizon.

"The first time we met, you tried to punch me."

"Did it work?"

"It was surprisingly effective."

Reasonable.

"And after that?"

The Architect's expression became distant.

"After that..."

For the first time, Lucien saw something unexpected in the ancient being's eyes.

Affection.

"You asked me if I was lonely."

Silence.

Of course he had.

The Architect laughed softly.

"You've always had terrible priorities."

The stars above the city dimmed.

"And unfortunately..."

His gaze settled once more upon Lucien.

"...you've never learned when to stop caring."

The sky split open completely.

Beyond it, countless figures waited.

The Court of Architects had arrived.

And every single one of them was looking at Lucien with the same impossible expression.

Not fear.

Not hatred.

Something far more complicated.

The Architect smiled sadly.

"Welcome back, old friend."

And for the first time since awakening in this life, Lucien began to suspect that perhaps the Architects had never truly been his enemies at all.