The shards spun once more, the crown hovering in stillness as the voice coiled through the darkness like smoke searching for lungs to fill. Then the laughter stopped. Silence fell so sharp it was deafening.
And in that silence, the voice spoke again—low, deliberate, as if every word carved itself into the bones of the world.
> "You think this was your war? Your victory? No."
"What comes now was forged before your thrones were dust."
The hall shivered, and the air split with a sound like shattering glass. Images tore into Alexander's mind—not visions, not illusions, but truths too vast for words.
He saw a sky ripped apart by flame and void, stars swallowed like embers in a tide of black water. He saw cities made of bone, rising from oceans of shadow. He saw creatures with crowns of eyes and mouths that devoured light, kneeling to something so vast it was barely shape, barely form—a hunger older than the First Flame.
And in its center, a single name echoed, whispered by a thousand dead tongues.
> "The Endless King."
☆☆☆
The Prophecy Unbound
Isabella clutched her head, staggering as the voice wove through her thoughts like molten chains.
> "What… what is this? What are you showing us?"
The voice purred, almost gentle.
> "The truth your world buried beneath fire and blood. The truth even the gods feared. When the first crowns were forged, they were not made to rule men. They were made to bar a door."
Alexander's grip tightened on his sword.
> "And that door—where is it?"
The shards glowed brighter, and for the first time, the voice held something like hunger.
> "You broke its seal when you shattered me. The first gate is open. The others will follow."
Isabella's breath hitched. "Others? How many?"
> "Seven."
☆☆☆
The Weight of Seven
The images shifted—seven pillars of obsidian rising from a sea of darkness, chains snapping one by one. On each, a crown burned, bleeding power into the void. And above them all… something vast stirred, its shadow blotting out suns.
Alexander tore free from the vision with a gasp, sweat beading his brow. His voice was a rasp of iron and fury.
> "Tell me how to stop it."
The crown pulsed softly, almost in mockery.
> "You don't stop storms. You ride them."
"Wear me, and the Endless King will bow—or burn."
☆☆☆
The Temptation Deepens
Isabella stared at the floating crown, her face pale, her lips bloodless. Her pulse pounded with whispers only she could hear now.
> "Take me," they cooed in her mind.
"Take me and save him. Save them all. Or watch the sky drown in ash."
And in that moment, Alexander saw it—the tiniest crack in her resolve.
And he knew:
The war for their world was no longer fought with swords.
It would be fought with choices.