"Ughhh... what a fucking day."
"I'm guessing I didn't die... hahaha. Ouch. Everything fucking hurts."
His bones creaked as he moved.
Dried blood cracked across his skin with every twitch.
He scanned the space around him—stone, roots, faint light bleeding through the hole above.
"Looks like it's just me and you again, Elijah."
He closed his eyes. Tried to reach inward—But the flame didn't answer.
A bitter smile ghosted across his face.He sighed.
"Well... guess it's just me. Thanks."
A pause.
"I think I'm going crazy… hahaha—ow. Gotta stop that."
He looked up.The sky was barely visible through the shattered ceiling.
"Damn creature. I hope you die of... explosive dia—I mean, I hope you have a great day."
Sigh.
With my luck, it'll probably jump down here next.
Let's just be a paragon of kindness. Mhm.
Then—A voice. Sharp. Dry. Merciless.
"Yeah… like that worked out for Elijah."
Kael's head snapped toward the sound.
"Who's there?!"
His heart surged.
Grief kindled—enough to activate the barrier on instinct.
Silence.
Nothing moved.
Just the weight of the voice, still hanging in the dark.
I have nowhere else to go. Not really.
And it seems like this world won't let me rest.
Time to face the music.
And by music, I mean the disembodied voice that might kill me.
Unsteady step by unsteady step, Kael made his way into the dark.
His boots knocked against loose stones—Scattered across the floor in ways that made footing hard with his limp.
Weird… when did the floor get so uneven?
He gritted his teeth and pushed forward.
After a few minutes, a faint light flickered in the distance.
He tried to pick up the pace—Only to stumble, nearly fall.
"Slow and steady," he muttered."Don't want to die by tripping over a rock."
He kept walking.
Five minutes passed. Maybe more.
Then—
The passage opened.
A wide expanse spread out before him.
His eyes narrowed. A frown laced with trepidation… and anger.
Not fresh death—old.
Layered.
Settled.
A rot that had learned patience.
He looked down.
Reflected in his dark brown eyes…
Skulls.
Hundreds. Thousands. They stretched from his boots to a pale hill of bone.
At its peak stood a mirror—maroon and black, ornate and cracked,
As if it had been punched from the inside.
Kael didn't move at first.
His body didn't rebel… but it didn't obey either.
He took a breath—And stepped forward.
Crunch.
The sound echoed far too loud for just one skull.
Another step.
Another.
Each one dragged memories to the surface that didn't belong to him.
Laughter.
Screams.
The ring of steel.
Each step, an inescapable chill.
He kept going.
Not because he wanted to—But because whatever waited in the mirror already knew he would.
Standing before the glass, Kael looked into his reflection.
Flames licked at the edges of the mirror—Slow. Deliberate. Hungry.
Then—Fire surged from the bones beneath his feet.
The air twisted.
Steel shattered through space.
Screams.
Laughter.
Sadistic. Familiar.
He looked back at the mirror.
His reflection had changed.
Older.
Worn by time, rage, and something deeper than pain.
His own face… but hollowed.
Wearing gold and black armor—
Regal and scorched.
A crown dragged from his belt by a length of smoldering chain.
And on that face…
A smile.
Slow.
Knowing.
"What do you—"
The world twisted.Space cracked like glass.
When Kael's vision cleared—
The screams were louder.
The heat, real.
He stood on a battlefield.
Ash in the wind. Blood on the ground.
And the reflection—
No longer a reflection—
Was walking toward him.
His eyes burned with disdain.
When he spoke…It felt like Kael's own voice, dragged through fire.
"So… you're the one this time."
A sneer curled across the scorched reflection.
"Disgustingly weak."
He stepped closer, boots cracking bone beneath.
"Still chasing kindness like it's a crown worth wearing. Did Elijah teach you to bleed like that… or was that your own little idea?"
Kael opened his mouth—
"What are—"
"Silence."
The word hit like a command.
"Failures don't get to speak."
Something stirred inside Kael.
A flicker of heat.
The figure smiled wider.
"You're nothing. A half-grown echo. A mess stitched together from prettier corpses."
Rage simmered. Low and deep.
"You're their last chance, you know. All their hopes… shoved into you like ash into a cracked urn."
"But don't worry. I'm not hoping for anything."
His voice dropped—almost kind.
"We don't want peace. Or legacy. We want the simpler thing."
He raised one burning hand.
"Destruction."
"Everyone we've ever loved has betrayed us, Kael. Some sooner. Some screaming."
Kael growled.
"You're not making any damn sense."
The man stepped closer. Their faces—identical in shape. Not in spirit.
"You don't have to understand yet.
You will."
A pause.
"All you need to know…Is that I can give you the strength to survive."
Kael glared into the hollow fire of his other self's eyes.
"What if I don't want it?"
The man smiled.
Not amused.
Inevitable.
"You don't get a choice."
And before Kael could move—His other self's hand closed around his skull.
Fire burned its way inside his mind, splitting open.
"AGHHHHH—!"
"Oh, shut up."
The voice bored into him like a brand.
"This is nothing compared to what you've survived before."
Memories—not his—flooded in.
Screams. Chains. Betrayals.
Power forged from ruin.
And somewhere in the fire—
A weapon.
His.
Kael collapsed to his knees, gasping.
Heat pulsed through his veins. Not pain. Not yet.
Something deeper.
He opened his eyes—
And saw it.
In his right hand:
A double-edged sword, dark red with age and ruin. Its edge glowed faintly—like it remembered blood.
In his eyes—
Rage.
Ancient.
Familiar.
The other him—the King—stood just beyond the firelight.
"That's it," he said.
"That's the truth you keep running from."
He stepped forward, dragging the chain-bound crown behind him.
"Don't forget," he said, voice low and final,
"You are me."
"We are, and will always be… the Scorched King."
A breath. Heavy.
"The others…"
He tilted his head—mocking, almost wistful.
"They want you to remember it all.
To burn away what must not remain.
To heal. To protect. To nurture.
To choose what will endure."
He stepped into the firelight—
Eyes gleaming like dying stars.
"Don't be deluded."
A pause.
A smile like a blade.
"I am the only way."
The Scorched King raised his blade—
A twin to Kael's.
Blackened edge. Crimson groove.
A weapon made for endings.
It sang as it moved.
Then—
Flash. Flame. Steel.
Kael saw his own body fall.
Headless.
A heartbeat of silence.
Then—
The entire world was engulfed in flame.